Naboo Rain
by Reihla
Summary: Some two and a half years after Geonosis Anakin Skywalker takes leave to meet his wife on Naboo. Of course, the real world intrudes and they are forced to abandon their idyll to do what all heroes do and launch a rescue mission.
1. Chapter 1

**Naboo Rain**

**By: Reihla **

**Chapter 1**

Anakin Skywalker landed his modified _Delta-7 Aethersprite_ on one of the Royal Palace's small platforms with practiced ease. He glanced down to adjust his chrono to Naboo time, noticing the lateness of the hour with surprise. It wasn't so much that the half a standard hour he was behind was cause for concern. He wasn't adhering to any set time schedule. It was just that he couldn't believe he'd let even a few precious minutes get away from him on this trip.

Once again he was forced to acknowledge an aspect of himself that had brought him more reprimands than he could remember. His passion for flying could pull him out of the real world to the point where nothing else mattered. Each and every time that particular quirk surfaced – and it had done so countless times in Anakin's young life – Obi-Wan would seize the opportunity to expound upon the perils of idle distraction.

Although his Master wasn't with him today, Anakin couldn't keep a familiar litany from replaying in his head: _"Be mindful of the present, my young padawan. You simply cannot allow yourself to be pulled into oblivion whenever it suits you. Some day the price will be higher than you want to pay."_

It was one of many bits of Obi-Wan wisdom he'd committed to memory over the years. On rare instances like this, when he found himself apart from his Master and engaging in activities he shouldn't, he would repeat such mantras to himself. They served as something of a self-imposed penance. Not that it ever changed his course of action. Somehow, just knowing he'd endured the requisite reprimand made him feel less guilty.

Only today he didn't feel a bit better. Oddly enough, the wisdom of Obi-Wan's admonishment – heretofore a mystery – now seemed crystal clear. The loss of the time itself was punishment enough. Today of all days he couldn't believe he'd let even a minute get away from him. He just hadn't been able to resist angling his starfighter for an extra pass over the city. The lure of Theed's pale pink marble and sparkling waterfalls had called to him like a long-lost friend.

Over a decade had passed since he'd first set eyes on Naboo's capital. It remained unchanged, timeless as ever, and he couldn't deny the urge to spend a few extra minutes drinking in the familiar beauty. The boy he'd been so long ago would have done the same. Despite being irritated at the time lost, he had to admit that he was glad, perhaps even relieved, to discover some part of that youthful innocence still dwelt inside him.

All those years ago the fascination had been understandable. Tatooine, the planet of his birth and the only world he'd ever known, was nothing but an arid, endless ocean of sand. Naboo, verdant and green, had been the exact opposite and to Anakin it had seemed almost magical.

In the years between then and now he'd been privileged to travel to many amazing worlds. Most held wonders as majestic and awe-inspiring as those before him today. Still, no matter how impressive their architecture or advanced their technology, those places didn't affect him like this one. Just a few short minutes soaring above Theed had done more to push the shadows of intergalactic conflict from his mind than long hours of meditation. Even the Jedi Temple's incredible Room of a Thousand Fountains had nothing on Naboo's natural marvels.

Every trip to this living, breathing planet only served to emphasize to Anakin the disparity between Naboo and his native homeworld. In his mind, there was nothing of beauty to be found on Tatooine. In fact, just over a year ago he'd left that dead chunk of rock behind for what he prayed was the last time.

All that remained for him there were crude memorials to bondage, loss and his own darkest failure. The few happy recollections he had of his mother, Kitster and Qui-Gon Jinn were tucked carefully away in a bright corner of his heart. He'd tried very hard to bury the harsher memories - of slavery, sandpeople and death - back on the Lars' homestead in that shallow grave. He couldn't afford to give the bitterness they engendered a place in his life. Especially not now, when so many of his dreams seemed on the verge of coming true.

Speaking of dreams, he shook his head to clear the darker thoughts. Tatooine should be the last thing on his mind today. He was finally here, on sparkling Naboo, to see the woman he loved more than any other being in the universe. Now was a time for reveling in the present, not dwelling on miseries of the past.

He waited impatiently for the sublight engines to power-down so he could finish his post-landing check. Drumming his fingertips on the console Anakin turned his sky blue gaze to the sweeping cityscape. He deliberately followed the curves of the green domed rooftops as they rose like waves toward the mountainside. Once again Theed's gentle grace edged its way into his war-battered soul. It was soothing, much like a warm breeze or the touch of his wife's hand.

An unexpected but welcome feeling of homecoming wrapped itself around him. This world was his. Just as much a part of him as Tatooine or Coruscant. The revelation was as gratifying now as it had been the first time he'd felt it - on his wedding day.

In those precious stolen moments after he and Padmé exchanged vows, they had embraced and watched the setting sun. As they gazed out over the lake they had exchanged gentle kisses and quiet promises. Anakin recalled whispering that one day they would build a home on the shores of that very lake. Padmé had embellished his vision with her own description of how their children would swim out to the island to play.

In that instant, in the waning light of the happiest day of his life, Anakin had first understood that his link to Naboo was real and permanent. After half a lifetime of emotional isolation the revelation had flooded his empty heart with hope. The scared little boy who lived inside him, the one always struggling to belong, finally had a place to call home. It had been an epiphany. One single joyous moment of illuminating discovery. There, on that balcony, his heart's most fervent desire had been met and he wanted nothing more than to stay there and share Padmé's life.

Returning to the cold anonymity of the Jedi Temple had proven a torturous exercise. Thankfully, his new wife had understood his conflict, perhaps even better than he did himself. In those emotionally charged moments when the dread of returning to Coruscant seemed overwhelming, Padmé had been the one to persuade him that his lifelong dream of becoming a Jedi had to be realized. She reminded him that they both had important roles to play in the future of the galaxy, roles that required him to fulfill his destiny and become a Jedi. Her encouragement alone had strengthened his fading resolve so he could return to the Jedi Temple and endure the long months apart from her.

Since that day neither he nor Padmé had spoken of the distant future. Both were well aware that the life of a Jedi forbade familial attachments and neither had any solutions to crossing that bridge. Over-speculating on the matter brought only frustration, so for now they stuck to what they knew was real. The knowledge that they belonged to each other, even in this bizarre, distantly estranged fashion, helped them keep their sanity.

For Anakin, living this new secret life had come with a high price. The loneliness of the past year without Padmé surpassed any he'd ever felt – even his first years at the Temple.

And his dreams… they were worse. He'd never been given to peaceful dreams and those he'd had of late were no exception. In his dreams Padmé was always running from him. No, not from him exactly. She ran from something he couldn't see, but always away from him. Her voice, calling his name in desperation, echoed through his nightmares. He'd long since lost count of the nights he would jerk awake, bathed in a cold sweat, unable to breathe. The only cure for this anxiety had been emergency transmissions to Naboo. Always he'd find that Padmé was well and safe, but the fear lingered for days. Often it would escalate into a burning hunger to see her that would drive all rational concerns from his mind.

He had tried deep meditation techniques to suppress the dreams. For a short time those methods worked. Recently, however, the dreams had returned, both stronger and with greater frequency. The inner turmoil they brought in their wake refused to be checked with simple reassurances. What was worse, the chaos of his thoughts had begun to manifest in tangible ways – impatience, anger and biting sarcasm directed at those around him.

The troops under Anakin's command felt the sting of his temper for even the most trivial of causes. Though he tried to curb the outbursts, his efforts seemed doomed to fail. It was no use. The more he worried about Padmé the angrier he became.

The Jedi Council couldn't miss the change in him. Master Yoda, in particular, had been increasingly vigilant where Anakin was concerned, never hesitating to personally confront him on the pitfalls of fear and aggression.

What had surprised Anakin most during all of this was Obi-Wan's loyalty. He often made excuses for his Padawan's mood swings, blaming them on sorrow and guilt over the death his mother. For a time the Council accepted the explanations. Though few Jedi had familial ties, they'd seen grief before and recognized Anakin's special circumstance. Lately, however, they'd been losing patience. All Jedi knew that anger was the quickest path to the dark side and it was becoming more and more obvious to all that there was more amiss in the Chosen One's world than the loss of his only parent.

Though he was grateful to Obi-Wan for defending him to the Council, Anakin knew his Master was no fool. One of Obi-Wan's greatest gifts as a Jedi was his sensitivity to even the smallest fluctuations in the Force. Not that he needed that particular talent to feel his apprentice's pain. Anakin knew the fury and confusion radiated from him in waves. Only someone Force-blind would miss it.

Though Obi-Wan continued to support him to the Council, it was clear that his Master's patience was wearing thin. He had long-since dropped the veil of pretense when they were alone together and his constant questions were becoming more and more pointed. In just the past few weeks Anakin suspected he might have guessed a part of the truth – that Padmé was somehow at the heart of his Padawan's emotional upheaval. In recent arguments the elder Jedi never missed an opportunity to mention that Anakin hadn't been himself since he'd been assigned to protect Senator Amidala over a year ago.

To counter Obi-Wan's insightfulness, Anakin simply refused to talk about his feelings and began erecting strong mental barriers. Ironically, the further he retreated the more Obi-Wan pressed and the more strained their relationship became. Tension finally stretched to the breaking point just before he left Coruscant yesterday. Details of the argument still burned in his mind…

They'd run into each other in the deserted Temple Hall just as Anakin was about to descend the main stairway. Obi-Wan had just returned from a skirmish on Sullust only to be told by the Council that his Padawan had been granted a leave of absence. Knowing his Master was a stickler for protocol, Anakin imagined he had been far less annoyed about the leave being granted than he was about not being consulted. Whatever the reason, he'd been noticeably angry and had skipped the part about asking for an explanation. Instead, he'd immediately launched into a lecture about disrespecting his authority.

Still reeling from his most recent nightmare, Anakin's patience had snapped. He'd flatly informed Obi-Wan that he didn't need permission and refused to reconsider leaving. The heated clash that ensued was cut short when Obi-Wan muttered that he'd rather not have a Padawan at all than one that adamantly refused to learn his place.

Just recalling those words brought the same chill to Anakin's heart that he'd felt the moment Obi-Wan had uttered them. They only served to confirm what he'd always suspected and put a voice to his greatest fear. His own Master didn't want him. From the sound of it, he had never wanted him.

Anakin remembered feeling the words like a slap across the face. He'd actually recoiled as if physically struck before trying valiantly to mask the anguish he knew was written on his features. It hadn't worked. Obi-Wan saw the shock and disillusionment clearly. It had drawn him up short.

The moments that followed would be etched on Anakin's memory forever. Obi-Wan had grasped his shoulders tightly. "I'm sorry! You know I didn't mean that!" Two pairs of blue eyes met, one begging forgiveness, the other radiating devastation.

Anakin shrugged free and denied the apology. "Of course you meant it!" He hadn't even tried to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"No, I didn't! I was just frustrated and angry! I can't reach you anymore!" Obi-Wan was almost shouting, uncharacteristically loud in his effort to convey his remorse. "You have to tell me what's going on! I love you, but I feel like I'm losing you. I have no idea what to do!" It was the first and only time in Anakin's recollection that his master had ever admitted such helplessness. His desperation was evident, both from the hint of panic in his voice and the tears of frustration in his eyes. "Please, Anakin!"

The demons driving Anakin had almost been hushed in that moment. His Master _did _love him! Of course, those words had been spoken over the years, but always with affection, impatience or Obi-Wan's characteristic long-suffering sigh. They were hallmarks of the camaraderie they shared. Somehow, though, the words had lacked intensity and therein dwelt the problem.

In Anakin's experience, love was not a comfortable emotion. Rather, it was a passionate driving force that didn't always fit neatly into a box. It was single-minded loyalty marked by a willingness to sacrifice. Mostly, though, it was about loss and the fear of losing. The emotions he now sensed coming from Obi-Wan were all that and more. The confusion and frustration he recognized. They were old friends. This time, however, a new feeling flooded in alongside them. Fear. Real fear that Anakin would be lost to him.

It was the fear that Anakin understood best. In his experience, fear and love had always been close allies. To love someone was to fear of losing them. For the first time in over a decade Anakin truly understood his Master's feelings. In fact, they seemed to mirror his own. Finally, a sentiment from his teacher passionate enough to be worthy of the relationship they shared! In the midst of his turmoil, Obi-Wan seemed to have dropped the façade of indifference he always wore like a cloak. For a few unguarded moments, intentional or not, he'd given Anakin a glimpse into his heart.

It was like giving food to a starving man. Since their relationship began Anakin had yearned to feel such intensity from his Master. During many of the loneliest times of his life it had been his heart's desire. Someone to love him unconditionally. Someone who would move heaven and earth to keep him safe. Someone to rescue him from slavery. Someone to love him as his mother had.

Now was as close as he'd ever felt to believing Obi-Wan could fill that void. The knowledge brought a rush of relief unlike any Anakin had ever known. The man he loved like a father valued him the same way! In that moment it would have been easy to convince Anakin that their relationship could stand the ultimate test. The truth.

The cold resolve he had clung to for so long faltered. Confiding in Obi-Wan would be such a relief! It would be a welcome end to the year of self-imposed exile. A year he'd spent constantly on his guard. To finally live without guilt and the fear of the consequences of discovery…

Wait! The truth about his love for Padmé? No! He'd kept the secret this long, and for good reason! He willed himself to remember what was at stake: their marriage, his future as a Jedi. He had to protect those things.

Sure, Obi-Wan's feelings were on his sleeve at this moment, but he suspected they could easily return to the same hidden, duty-bound place as before. One thing was certain. Obi-Wan's allegiance to the Jedi Order, first and foremost, could not be denied. In the end, that obligation would surely outweigh his Master's loyalty to him.

As a last resort, in what could be considered a serious breach of protocol and privacy, Anakin tried reaching out with the Force to see if the truth could be found in Obi-Wan's mind. There it was. That strong sense of duty, of what was _right_. Ultimately it would cause Obi-Wan to reveal his secret to the Council, even if it cost him his Padawan. That sense was all Anakin needed to know to rededicate himself to his purpose. There was far too much at risk to lose his focus at this point!

Even so, it hadn't been easy. He'd spun away from his Master, turning to grip the durasteel staircase railing. How he'd despaired of ever feeling worthy in the eyes of the man he'd grown to admire more than anyone else! All the years they'd spent dancing around each other, trying to love each other at arms length.

Fighting back tears, whether of regret or pain or relief he couldn't tell, Anakin had struggled to remain upright as waves of profound sadness crashed over him. It took several deep breaths to regain his composure. In those moments he knew what it was he had to do and the burden of it cut his heart to shreds.

He remembered standing with his back to Obi-Wan, forcing words through his lips. "I'm sorry Master, but it's too late for talking." He'd drawn on every ounce of control he possessed to school his features into an implacable mask before turning to face his mentor. "I'm leaving for Naboo and it doesn't matter how you feel about it. The Council agrees that I need this time away and they obviously want what is best for me." This last implied that the council had his well-being in mind even if his master did not. "If there is more to say it will just have to wait until I get back."

By the time Obi-Wan raised his eyes to meet his Padawan's cool gaze his own wall of reserve had been back in place. "Anakin, please reconsider. I sense that if you leave now things will change forever between us."

"They already have. Things have been changing between us for a long time, Master. Perhaps it's time we acknowledged that fact." Anakin drew himself up to his full height and looked down at his mentor. "I've never been the kind of Padawan you wanted. You said so yourself just now, but I've always know it to be true."

Obi-Wan had folded his arms in front of his chest, a motion Anakin had seen many times before. In the past it had seemed a calculated gesture, meant to emphasize his superiority over a problem or situation. This time Anakin saw through the affectation to what it really was: an unconscious gesture of detachment to guard his own feelings.

It was effective. Anakin felt Obi-Wan's mental step back. Everything from the crossed arms, to the slant of his hip, to the tilt of his head conveyed aloofness, but now Anakin recognized the pretense. A part of him wanted to reach out to his Master, to apologize for hurting him.

Only one thing stopped him. Padmé. She was relying on him to guard their future. He must not forget what he was fighting for!

Thankfully, the invisible barrier Obi-Wan had hidden behind for years was back in place and stronger than ever. Anakin felt a surge of relief. The temptation to confide was gone. There would never be a better opportunity to set fire to the bridge between them.

Obi-Wan finally spoke. "Well, I can see you won't be swayed on this issue." Anakin said nothing, confirming the statement with a slight negative motion of his head. "There's nothing left to say then." They stood there, eye to eye.

The elder Jedi seemed to be waiting for a response. Anakin waited for…he didn't know what. For the first time in eleven-years Anakin couldn't feel his Master through the Force. To guard his own feelings Obi-Wan had withdrawn from him completely. Even the camaraderie they always shared felt absent. Well, that was what he'd wanted, right? A gradual dissolution of their intimate Master/Padawan bond?

He turned to go only to be brought up short by a final word from Obi-Wan.

"Wait!" There was urgency in the command. "There is one more thing." Anakin stood motionless, waiting, eyes downcast. Obi-Wan paused for a moment, as if weighing what he wanted to say in the silence. Finally, he settled for "May the force be with you."

Anakin acknowledged the blessing with a nod, but did not voice it in return. The rift that had grown between them for years had finally become a chasm of his own making and it cut to his very soul. He dared not turn around lest his master see the silent tears that ran down his cheeks. He'd left quickly, without another word.

He didn't remember the walk to the hangar deck. All he recalled was climbing into his fighter's cockpit, burying his head in his arms and giving in to the sobs that had all-but choked him during their confrontation. For those brief isolated moments Anakin allowed himself to mourn the loss of the most important friendship in his life. Then he'd used the sleeve of his robe to wipe the tears from his face, straightened in the pilot's seat and resolutely squared his shoulders. Within minutes he'd fired up his starfighter's engines and roared into space.

Many hours later, here on Naboo, Anakin found he had greater clarity of thought. The lengthy, isolated flight had given him time to sort through his feelings. He knew he'd hurt Obi-Wan deeply, and vice-versa, but there was no point in regretting what he wouldn't change. There simply was no other course of action that would have protected both his marriage and his dream of becoming a Jedi Knight.

It had been clear from the events on Geonosis that neither Obi-Wan nor the Jedi Council would ever tolerate his love for Padmé. He could still remember his Master's shouted warning moments after she fell from the gunship: "You will be expelled from the Jedi Order!"

In those brief, conflicted moments he'd been utterly powerless to save the person he loved most. Just as powerless as the second his mother drew her last breath in his arms. It was a feeling he never wanted again. It was that simple. He wouldn't give up Padmé and he _had_ to become a Jedi. It was the only way to prove himself worthy of his mother's unwavering faith. Leaving her on Tatooine all those years ago, leaving her to be tortured and killed, could not be made an empty sacrifice.

If the cost of fulfilling his goals was his relationship with Obi-Wan, then so be it. He was no stranger to loss or sacrifice. This, too, could be endured.

A flashing light from the dash and its accompanying monotonous beeping pulled Anakin from his murky introspection. He was glad of it, too. What awaited him here on Naboo was far too good to waste time dwelling on things which were not.

He rushed through the rest of his post-landing check before opening the cockpit and pushing himself from the pilot seat. Dropping to the ground beside the ship, he just managed to pitch his flight gloves and headset back inside before the hydraulic hood snapped shut.

Removing the dark leather gloves had revealed his new artificial hand. Almost idly Anakin examined it, making a fist before opening and spreading his fingers. Already he could tell this version was light years better than the first. This time the synth-skin had been grown from his own cells. In all ways it seemed identical to his real hand, with one exception: even with the more advanced technology its movements were still perceptibly stiffer and less flexible. Perhaps it was fixable. He'd already promised himself a few special modifications after the war and the changes he had in mind should improve its function significantly. If he had to live with an artificial limb he was determined it would serve him better than the original.

For now, though, what free time he had was used to upgrade his starfighter. It was important to keep her at peak performance for upcoming missions. He ran his fingers over the edge of the ship, acknowledging his affection for the beautiful craft. It was a proprietary fondness; rather like what he'd always felt for the droids he built.

The stock Delta-7 had been a gift to him from the Council, a reward for acing his flight finals shortly after Geonosis. OK, so maybe "gift" was too generous a word. He'd shamelessly pleaded with them to be allowed to save the small fighter from the scrap heap. Master Adi Gallia, certain the craft was possessed by a Sith spirit, had been determined to melt her down.

It wasn't just that her maintenance records had been atrocious. To put it bluntly, every single thing, mechanical or electrical, that could go wrong on a starfighter had gone wrong on this one. Nothing had ever happened during training maneuvers, though. No, this little lady waited until the most critical point in any mission she was flown on and then went haywire. She'd left many a Jedi stranded in the midst of a firefight in some far sector of the galaxy. When Anakin heard about her he couldn't help laughing. He'd known they were meant for each other.

Under his careful refitting she became the shining star of the Jedi fleet. Weeks of painstaking rewiring had made her even more reliable than Commander Gallia's modestly customized fighter. A larger power coil from the salvage yard had been reworked and now gave the sublight engines amazing speed capability. Front scoops and wing extensions made her extremely maneuverable in planetary atmospheres. The standard pair of dual laser cannons had been replaced with multidirectional quad laser turrets. He'd even managed to add a couple of proton torpedoes – munitions typically reserved for larger vessels. She was a force to be reckoned with in any space battle.

If all of that wasn't enough, the old TransGalMeg Industries hyperdrive ring had been discarded in favor of mounting the ring's same lightspeed-capable engines directly under the main body of the fighter. She was, in Anakin's proud estimation, the first light fighter in the galaxy with hyperdrive capability.

The hyperdrive mod had earned Anakin high praise from the Delta-7's original designer, Walex Blissex. Once rumors of the modified ship reached his ears, he'd quickly made his way to Coruscant. He was determined to meet the young man who had managed in a few short months what the industry had been trying to achieve for generations. He spent hours with Anakin, listening intently, sketching diagrams and taking notes. Then he'd quietly packed up and returned to Kuat Systems Engineering to begin work on a new fighter prototype.

The hyperdrive upgrade aside, Anakin was most proud of moving the R4-P unit to the main body of the vessel, to just in front of the cockpit. This allowed the use of a full size astromech, rather than the truncated, hard-wired version seen on the regular Delta-7's. As a result, the droid could free itself from the body of the ship to make repairs. Such a thing came in handy on war-torn worlds where mechanics and repair bays were in short supply.

Plus, let's face it, with her sparkling blue and silver polished finish, she was just flat prettier than any other Delta-7 in the Jedi fleet.

All of these amazing modifications paled in comparison to the fact that she'd saved Anakin's sanity on many occasions. He always had her to turn to on the nights couldn't sleep. Fixing her up had given him a respite from the nightmares, at least for a while. Speaking of fixing…

"Arfour, see if you can track the source of that stutter in the sublight engines while I'm gone. It's driving me crazy." The droid chirped affirmatively back at him from his cubbyhole position on the ship, then whistled an inquiry.

"If luck is with me, I plan to be here several days." Although nuances of facial expression were lost on droids, Anakin cast a cynical smile at the little silver and black droid. "Of course, if Master Obi-Wan is right and there's no such thing as luck, I'll be called back to Coruscant in a matter of hours. This war is far from over and it's been a little too quiet lately."

Thankfully, he thought as he looked around the landing platform, things looked stable here on Naboo. Evidence of the conflict gripping the rest of the galaxy had yet to find its way to this sector. It was only a matter of time, though, if things continued on their present course. Countless loyalist systems were suffering even now. Ecosystems on entire planets were being ravaged by Separatist ground forces. The fact was undeniable - droid armies were ruthless when it came to persuading uncooperative systems to join their cause.

Despite the destruction, Anakin felt the Clone Army was doing its best on behalf of the Republic. Once deployed, they always managed to effectively shut down Federation and Techno-union ground forces. In space, too, their casualty count was usually a scant percentage of that of the droid army.

Unfortunately, however, wars of attrition were hard fought and even harder won. The trail of devastation both armies left in their wake was heartbreaking. A bloody scene from Chandrila, the planet he'd just helped save, replayed in his head. Civilian and clone casualties had been especially high on that world. Ground forces had all-but reduced their cities to rubble. It would take them a very long time to recover – if they could at all.

Once again Anakin deliberately forced his thoughts away from the current galactic political situation. He'd had more than enough of this war for the moment. It was time to focus on happier things, like the upcoming interlude with his incredibly beautiful wife.

Circling to the rear of the fighter, he opened a hatch and grabbed a small travel case from among the spare part canisters. It had been packed and stored there many months ago on the slim chance he could find a way to escape from duty. As Supreme Chancellor Palpatine always said, it seemed his patience was finally paying off. The thought triggered a small smile.

Snapping the cargo port closed, he returned to a small hidden control panel on the wing to set the ship's security code. He punched in a series of symbols, locking it completely against unauthorized access. It wouldn't do to have the idle curious snooping around inside a Jedi starfighter, even one that wasn't readily recognizable as such. You never knew when some flight-savvy kid might find a way in, take off and get into all kinds of trouble.

He smiled to himself and fell into idle chat with Arfour as he checked all the external hatches. He let the droid know which flight systems deserved a more critical once-over than usual and joked about some specific changes he'd made that needed to be un-made. Improvements were trial and error and the latter was all too common lately. Obviously he was distracted.

An observer might have found his interaction with the R4 unit a curious thing. Laughing and making conversation with droids was strange and pointless to most life forms. Not so to Anakin. He'd been talking to droids since his earliest days in Watto's shop and still counted them among his best childhood friends.

Obi-Wan had tried early on to divest Anakin of the habit. He felt, and rightly so, that it was a crutch the boy used to pull away from people. Unfortunately his Master's efforts had been off-set by lengthy flight training patrols with an astromech as his only companion. The habit was now set in stone and, though he would never admit it, Anakin still found the company of droids preferable to most sentient beings. They had few expectations and could not be disappointed. And they didn't mind idle speculation.

"It seems as if the Council bought the story that I needed a few days away from the battle to refocus and meditate." Arfour seemed to consider this before beeping a doubtful reply.

"Well, it _is_ true. I just never mentioned I wouldn't be doing it alone." He grinned and adjusted his bag, pulling the strap high on his shoulder. "So you see, it's true, from a certain point of view." He couldn't prevent the touch of sadness he felt when he realized how easily he dropped Obi-Wan's philosophies into casual conversation. "And he thought I never listened."

As he turned to leave the platform he glanced back at the little droid. "You should take advantage of the palace's maintenance area while we're here. Get an oil-bath and have all that carbon scoring scraped off. I guess that last dogfight was pretty intense, huh?" The R4 whistled back in extreme agreement before engaging the fighter's repulsor lifts and turning it towards the hangar bay.

"You have my comlink frequency if there is an emergency, otherwise I'll see you in a few days." With that parting shot Anakin ran toward palace door. He'd kept Padmé waiting long enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

On the other side of the palace, in her Senatorial suite, Padmé Skywalker stood before a mirrored wall. In the past two hours she'd managed to try on at least fifteen different dresses. The evidence was a growing pile of gowns strewn carelessly in the walk-in closet to her right. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully before releasing a pent-up breath.

A young woman who served as both handmaiden and bodyguard sat on the bed behind her, smiling indulgently at her Lady's audible sighs.

"How nice that my suffering can amuse you, Dormé." Padmé muttered, meeting her retainer's steady gaze in the mirror. The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, but clearly not without considerable effort. The brown eyes, so like Padmé's own, still sparkled with humor.

"I'm sorry m'lady." The apology, though softly and sincerely uttered, lacked conviction.

Padmé Amidala Skywalker had lived in the spotlight all her life. While still in primary school she had entered Naboo's Legislative Youth program only to rise quickly through its leadership ranks courtesy of wisdom far beyond her years. At the tender age of 14 she found herself the democratically elected and crowned Queen of her entire homeworld. After serving two consecutive four-year terms, she'd looked forward to retirement from the political arena only to once again find herself drawn into public service, this time as a Republic Senatorial representative. Today, however, her trademark self-confidence was conspicuously absent.

"Matching wits with interplanetary leaders, leading peace negotiations for the entire galaxy and influencing the combined governments of millions of worlds comes easily to me. Why am I having so much trouble picking a gown?" Frustration laced her voice.

"Perhaps my hair is the problem. Does it go with this dress? Or is it too casual? Do you think I have time to redo it? Maybe sweep it all up?" She turned her head from side to side, pulling her hair up and away from her neck before letting it fall back down in a shining cascade of sable curls. Her reflection showed a simple, but elegant hairstyle comprised of numerous delicate ropes of hair twisting away from a center part to be drawn back into a golden clip above the curls at her nape. Not even an hour ago Dormé had heartily approved the style for its combination of regal sophistication and allure.

"M'lady, you and your husband have been separated a very long time. He'll be so thrilled to see you that you'll be lucky if he even notices you _have_ hair."

Padmé sighed again, and then smiled wryly. Her anxiety was beginning to ebb thanks to her friend's gentle teasing.

Dormé was one of only two personal attendants in young senator Amidala's employ. She was also Padmé's closest friend. Of all the people in her life, Dormé alone shared her most secret confidences. In particular, only she knew of Padmé's marriage to the young Jedi Skywalker.

Padmé was thankful for her friend's unwavering loyalty every minute of every day. Her presence was one of few things that made Anakin's absence bearable. It was strange, really, how she hadn't recognized her own loneliness until Anakin came back into her life. Now her every thought, dream and goal seemed to center around him. Dormé could empathize somewhat with Padmé's situation being married to a member of the Naboo Royal Guard. Her own husband spent many months at a time traveling to official off-world functions with Queen Jamillia.

As if Dormé's trustworthiness and companionship weren't enough, almost a year ago she had given her newlywed friend a most wonderful gift. With the unexpected help of Chancellor Palpatine (Anakin chose his own confidantes well) she had pulled off a feat that was nothing short of miraculous. She'd received a private communiqué from a mysterious source advising her of a mix-up in the Jedi Council's itinerary log. The error would give Anakin two full days between his scheduled departure from the temple and his expected arrival at his next assignment. It hinted that young Skywalker planned to take full advantage of the mix-up. Dormé didn't waste the information.

While finishing up a diplomatic mission to an outer rim planet, Senator Amidala was rumored to have suddenly contracted a strange and unidentifiable illness. She was forced to abandon her duty and return to Coruscant immediately. Upon arrival she would spend time in quarantine receiving care from a state of the art medical droid and, of course, her personal attendant. For Dormé, deactivating the medical droid had been no obstacle.

So, with alibis secure, the newlyweds had been able to meet to enjoy a late honeymoon in a very private, very luxurious Coruscant penthouse (Padmé suspected Palpatine was the source of that as well). Though their time together was brief, they were beyond grateful.

Most recently, it had been Dormé who had received Anakin's coded transmission telling them he was soon to arrive on Naboo. From the moment Dormé handed her lady the message all other matters were relegated to the realm of insignificance. Everything, that is, except the critical task of choosing the right hairstyle and an appropriate gown.

"It is the dress, then? Do you think it's too obvious?" Padmé turned away from the full-length mirror only to look back over her shoulder dubiously. She eyed the open back of the gown with suspicion.

Dormé pretended to seriously consider the matter. Of course there was nothing wrong with the dress. It was a beautiful burgundy affair with many layers of filmy material that seemed to float on imaginary breezes. It reminded her of Padmé's favorite rainbow-pastel dress; only it did not flirt or project the same air of springtime innocence. This one's wine-dark color and the slightly deeper, more provocative cut were definitely meant to seduce.

"Hmmm. Too obviously what?" Dormé asked innocently.

Padmé sighed again, tapping her foot in frustration. Her friend took pity.

"No, m'lady, your dress is perfect. _You_ look perfect. Radiant. Master Anakin doesn't stand a chance." She exhaled deeply. "Besides, it will take me a full day just to reorganize your closet as it is! If you try on anything else…"

Padmé missed the teasing twinkle in her friend's eyes. "Oh Dormé, I wasn't thinking! I'll help you hang everything back up!" She was turning toward the closet when the door chime sounded. Her eyes widened. After all these months her husband was finally here!

Dormé arose from her place on the bed, smoothing the spread and flashing Padmé a bright smile. "Don't worry about your closet m'lady. You have far more important matters to attend to than hanging dresses. I'll see to them after you leave tomorrow. Your case is packed and by the door."

Unhurried, the handmaiden crossed to the closet and waved her hand in front of the control panel. A metal portal slid shut, hiding the chaos from view. Turning to the bedside table, she pulled a crimson flower from the arrangement there. To Padmé's surprise, she crushed the bloom in her hand and tossed the loose petals over the bed. They fell in artful chaos on the midnight blue spread.

"I think it's time I found something that needs doing elsewhere." She embraced Padmé, kissed her cheek and whispered, "You look beautiful."

Padmé returned her smile. Her confidence returning by degrees as she watched Dormé cross to the main entrance and wave her hand over the sensor.

The door slid open, revealing an anxious but still amazingly handsome Anakin Skywalker. The Jedi looked larger and more imposing than Dormé remembered. Though she knew him to be only 20, the war had stamped a new maturity over his features. His hair was longer, his jaw stronger and his shoulders had traded their former youthful leanness for muscle. Cloaked in black, his strong presence seemed to reach in from the doorway to fill the room.

Once Padmé saw Anakin any remaining traces of nervousness vanished. She opened her arms, greeting him with a radiant welcoming smile.

At the sight of his lady Anakin's formal manners deserted him. He mumbled an incoherent greeting to Dormé as he brushed past her to take Padmé in his arms.

Their lips met hungrily, youthful passion fueled by months apart. Neither husband nor wife noticed the handmaiden's departure as the door slid shut behind her.

Her duty almost done, Dormé programmed the access panel from outside. The light above the door switched from purple to red, signaling the portal would remain closed until the occupants disengaged the lock from within.

* * *

The passing of several hours found them huddled under the covers of Padmé's bed. Jedi garments were strewn carelessly around the room and Padmé's dress was a puddle of maroon silk on the floor.

"I can't believe it. I spent _hours_ choosing the right dress and you have me out of it in less than two minutes." Padmé teased her husband, pretending an ire she obviously didn't feel.

Anakin, lying beside her, perched on his elbow to gaze down into her face. "Hey, I've got my priorities." His face wore a very adult half-smile. Once it would have made her uncomfortable. Now it left her breathless.

He cradled her cheek in his palm before trailing his fingers down her neck. "I didn't take this off, though." There, on a delicate chain, was the small snippet of japor he'd given her over a decade earlier. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"I wouldn't have let you take it off. I've worn it close to my heart since the day we were wed." She reached up to touch it reverently. "Under the circumstances, it's all I can wear to symbolize our marriage."

"Oh Padmé, I've missed you so much!" His voice was husky, but fervent.

"Me too. I never knew I could feel like half of me just isn't here. That's how it is when we're apart." The teasing glint disappeared from her eyes, leaving a far more intense emotion in its wake. "Even when I'm with my friends or family I don't feel complete."

Anakin couldn't resist answering the earnest declaration with a gentle kiss. He pulled her lips to his, drawing back only when he felt he could trust his voice. "I feel the same way. I've felt that way every day since I left Naboo the first time. It's a hundred times worse now that we're married. I finally know what I'm missing."

Padmé's eyes widened at his revelation. "Anakin, you were only nine years old when you left Naboo with Obi-Wan!"

"Even then I knew I'd marry you someday. That fact has been truth to me since the first time I saw you."

"Yes, I remember you saying something like that. It made me very nervous."

"Nervous?" He tried to brighten the conversation, hoping to bring the carefree light back to her eyes.

"Alright, maybe nervous isn't the right word. Apprehensive, then."

"Apprehensive?" He responded to her words with what he hoped was an appropriately crestfallen expression.

She refused to take the bait and murmured. "You were very sweet Ani, but you were just a child."

"And you weren't?" He sat up, preparing to feign indignance only to find he didn't have to pretend. "Padmé, there has never been that much difference in our ages."

"I know it doesn't matter now, but it did when I was fourteen. I was a Queen with an entire planet depending on my judgment and maturity." She pulled herself up beside him. "I didn't have time for girlish dreams of romance."

He sighed dramatically. "I know, but it's cruel of you to remind me. To know you never thought of me _that_ way while I dreamed about you for _ten years_…" The subtle, mocking tone had re-entered his voice, laced with perhaps a hint of self-deprecation. "I remembered every detail of your face, every nuance of your voice, your perfume. Your subtlest gestures were poetry to me. I lived for any glimpse of you, any mention of your name in the media..."

Padmé giggled uncharacteristically at both his elaborate words and the sulky expression he'd affected. "I'm not going to apologize, Anakin, but I bet I can find a way to make it up to you." She trailed a hand down his chest and under the covers, glancing up at him from under dark lashes.

All thought of teasing fled Anakin's mind in an instant. Longing borne of endless months of loneliness flooded back in a rush. As he pulled her to him and nuzzled her neck she was just able to make out the muffled words "I'm sure you can!"

* * *

The following day their idyll began with a boat ride to the lake country retreat. Their first stop was the palazzo overlooking the water. As the site of their first kiss and, later, their wedding, it was even more beautiful than either remembered. The late season flowers had been planted along the walkways and splashes of orange, red and gold were everywhere. Padmé talked Anakin into swimming out to her island, where hours passed slowly and intimately on the beach. It never occurred to Anakin to protest the coarseness of the sand.

That evening at the chalet, they dined intimately at a small table by the fireplace. Though it was well out of fashion in elite social circles, Padmé wore the same black leather corset dress that she had worn during their last dinner here. The outfit had the same effect on Anakin as it had back then. Fortunately for both of them, this time they were free to act on their feelings. It was quite a while before they left the rug by the fireplace to return to the table for dessert.

The next afternoon they visited their meadow by the waterfall. This time Padmé chose a spot closer to the water under the shade of a large golden-leafed tree. As before, they spread Anakin's Jedi cloak and sat down to share a picnic. For a while husband and wife were taken back to the afternoon they'd spent in this same field over a year ago. Thankfully both had chosen more practical clothing this time around – simple belted tunics in shades of blue. Rolling around in the grass was much easier without a flowing skirt.

For a while their fun was cheerful and carefree. Wildflowers grew among the long blades of prairie grass; filling the air with an intoxicating fragrance. Anakin idly picked a dozen or so brightly colored blooms and braided them into a small wreath.

"What do you plan to do with that?" She eyed the floral loop dubiously. Anakin leaned over and plopped it on top of her head, declaring her queen of the meadow. She laughed before firing back her own reply. "I guess that would make you the king of the Shaaks?"

"Oh, no. Count me out! Royalty doesn't suit me. Besides, I'm far better at riding Reeks than Shaaks, which isn't saying much!" They laughed like children, slapping and tickling each other playfully.

It wasn't long, though, before talk turned to recent events and the subject of war crept into the discussion. To his credit, Anakin tried to keep things light. For the better part of an hour he sat against the tree trunk with Padmé's head in his lap, regaling his lady with tales of recent space battles.

"…it was incredible! We surprised an envoy of _six_ Trade Federation command ships. Our snub fighters didn't have the firepower to break the hangar bay defenses, but we did take out every gun tower and easily three times our number in fighters. My squadron didn't lose even _one_ ship."

"They've given you your own command?" Padmé's voice held only a hint of surprise. She knew her husband was an exceptional pilot, but command was usually reserved for seasoned pilots or Jedi Knights.

"Actually, I have twice the usual complement of fighters. Twenty pilots fly under my ensign. They're all clones, of course - highly trained and technically excellent." He twisted several stalks of grass idly in his fingers. "The trouble is, they've done so many simulated missions that they can't think creatively in live combat situations. I know they are organic life forms and I can use the force to communicate my will to them, but they still remind me of droids. The best they give is an adequate performance. They do only what they're told - no more, no less. They'll never be exceptional or heroic, but I can't complain. Their "adequate" has already been good enough to make us one of the most decorated units in the Republic fleet."

He discarded the mutilated pieces of foliage by tossing them over his shoulder. "Which reminds me…"

Padmé watched attentively as he pulled a small holoprojector out of his pocket. With a flick of the switch he showed her several holos of medals he'd acquired in the line of duty. The names he rattled off were of planetary systems where battles had been won, locations key to the Republic's continued dominion over the Separatists.

As he listed his accomplishments Padmé's expression changed noticeably. Lines of worry gathered between her brows. Anakin saw the change and correctly perceived the reasons for it. His accolades were stark reminders that he risked his life every moment they were apart. Her velvet eyes had grown dark and shadowed.

Clicking the holoprojector shut Anakin once again tried to lighten the mood by changing the subject. He picked a new topic, one dear to his wife's heart. "How goes the search for new homes for the war refugees?"

The distraction worked well. Helping the war victims was Padmé's latest passion. Her eyes brightened instantly as she launched into describing her visits to some of the outlying worlds. Anakin couldn't keep from staring at her face as it grew more and more animated.

"A surprising number of worlds have shunned refugees. They seem obsessed with declaring neutrality, saying they want no part of 'leftovers' from the rest of the galaxy." Her eyes clouded a little as she continued. "It's as if they believe that denying the existence of the war will ensure it won't ever touch them."

"Hah!" Anakin hadn't intended to comment, but the exclamation just wouldn't be stifled. "It'd be great if that were true! I'd be a lot less busy."

"Right. We just can't make them understand that the Separatists don't care what they claim." Anxiousness had entered her voice now and her words came faster. "Still, they haven't all been like that. There are quite a few loyalist systems agreeing to welcome the homeless with open arms."

"No doubt due to your powers of persuasion." Anakin's gaze reflected pride in the amazing woman next to him. His woman. "Who can refuse you once you set your mind to something? You're the best advocate I know."

She shifted self-consciously on the cloak blanket. Compliments always made her uncomfortable and this was no exception. She indelicately tried to swing the topic away from herself and back to politics.

"Its really very sad to see how many worlds won't declare loyalty to the Republic, not even to keep their people safe from the Separatists." Padmé sighed in frustration. "They can't conceive of the fact that such a threat to their survival really exists if they've never seen it. By the time the danger becomes apparent to them it will be too late."

Anakin considered her seriously "Aren't you saying that they should just give up their autonomy? Choose one master before another is chosen for them?"

"Ani, you know that isn't how the Republic works. We only want the systems to be free to govern themselves."

"Right. Within strictures set out by the Senate, doing whatever politicians feel is best for the majority." Anakin's voice wasn't critical, just matter-of-fact. This was truly the way he perceived the political machine.

Padmé sighed in frustration and rose up on her knees. Her face held the determined look Anakin had come to recognize as a prelude to a debate. Definitely not how he wanted to spend this afternoon.

He sought a compromise. "Look sweetheart, I know you are fiercely loyal to the Republic. I love that about you. I just don't agree that it should be a one-side-or-the-other decision for independent systems who wish to remain self-governing."

"But you're a Jedi, Anakin. Jedi support the Republic. They have for millennia."

"True, but I've never said I agree with that mission. From everything I've seen its always been flawed."

"Yes," one corner of Padmé's mouth curled upward, "I seem to remember you saying that before."

He leaned forward intently. "Padmé, I fight for the Republic because it is my duty as a Jedi. I've never pretended to understand their cause or the rest of intergalactic politics. Generations live and die. Political leaders change. Governments rise and fall. The Force is all that will last forever." He paused, refocusing his thoughts.

"There's more to it though. I think I also fight because you do and it makes me feel closer to you. That, and the Republic isn't out there killing innocent people. The Separatists deserve defeat because their methods are cruel and inhuman - and I'm going to make sure they get what they deserve."

Padmé glanced at Anakin uneasily. "You're right about one thing. They lack even a shred of humanity. Life doesn't matter to them, only power. Their senseless slaughter must be stopped. It's just that there has already been so much death and destruction."

The whole concept of retaliation was something Padmé hated with every fiber of her being, so Anakin recognized her words as quite a concession. It was clear after a decade of trying more peaceful methods that the Separatists weren't interested in diplomatic negotiation. The Jedi, too, had finally been forced to concede the point after so many of their number perished in the massacre at Geonosis.

Just after that battle, droid army attacks had been launched on several key Loyalist worlds. The unexpected destruction had taken everyone by surprise. All they could do was organize rescue crews to dig through the rubble on those decimated systems. Though the search for survivors had been heartbreaking, Padmé and other political leaders had overseen the tasks personally.

Thanks to their efforts, several dozen civilian rescue crews had been organized and were responsible for saving countless lives. Padmé had then turned her energies to the more long-term Refugee Relocation Project. As in most things, she had attacked the task with total devotion. He listened intently as she spoke about how they'd found homes for thousands of refugees in only a few short weeks. Her accomplishments had been nothing short of amazing.

Of all the things he admired about his wife, her ability to focus was the trait Anakin coveted for himself. She could dedicate herself single-mindedly to a cause and refuse to quit until it was done. It was an attribute Anakin felt he had never mastered. No matter where he was or what he was doing, some part of himself was always looking ahead to the future. Obi-Wan was forever telling him to be mindful of the present and Anakin knew he couldn't refute the criticism.

Even now his mind was wandering. He found himself watching Padmé intently, carefully memorizing every detail of her expression, every nuance of her voice, the emotions lighting her face. He would need those images later, in the cold and lonely isolation of space. He didn't realize he'd stopped listening to her words until she waved her hand in front of his eyes.

"Anakin!" She didn't appear annoyed. Rather, a mild amusement had crept into her voice. "You aren't hearing a word I'm saying."

He didn't pretend otherwise. "No, I'm not." To Anakin, the war and all its chaos seemed light years away. He'd left his heart here on Naboo and having it back made him realize just how empty he had been.

He slid over closer to Padmé, stretching out on the dark material of his cloak. "I was just thinking, wife, that we've given entirely too much of this afternoon to the war." He tugged her down beside him, wrapping his arm around her so that her head rested naturally in the crook of his shoulder, and leaned down to kiss her temple. She must have agreed with his assessment because she snuggled closer. They stayed that way, quiet, basking in shared warmth and companionship until the waning light forced them to return to the lake house.

* * *

Some time that night Anakin woke to the sound of thunder. Untangling his limbs from Padmé's he rose from the bed and grabbed pants from the back of a nearby chair. He slid them on, tied the drawstring and opened the terrace door. A strong wind fought its way inside, whipping the filmy curtains around him. Impatiently he tied the unruly window dressings in a knot and peered out toward the lake.

The downpour that met his gaze was spectacular. Such storms were a common occurrence here on Naboo, especially during this, the pre-winter season. This deluge showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

He leaned against the doorframe. As always, he found the sight of so much water falling from the sky mesmerizing. It was true that he'd seen impressive storms on other planets. Coruscant even boasted programmed rain cycles in its artificial atmosphere, but nothing he'd ever seen compared to the torrent he witnessed now. The rain seemed to fall with a vengeance; it's ferocity and power beckoning him.

Closing his eyes, he allowed his other senses to drink in the sounds and scents of the storm. He focused on the rain itself, dropping into a meditative state to try and feel each individual droplet of water as it fell to the concrete outside. It would have been an impossible task even for the most gifted of Jedi. Still, the attempt helped him find an odd sort of peace, an unaffected resting place at the center of the tempest.

Eventually he found himself aware of his surroundings once more. A glance back at Padmé showed her sleeping peacefully among piles of covers. His throat tightened as he studied her face. This would be their last night together for quite some time. Tomorrow he would return to the Jedi Temple. He hadn't told her yet, knowing it would cast a pall over the remainder of their time together.

He was expected to return to Coruscant to help plan a pre-emptive strike on Munnilinist, the homeworld of the powerful Banking Clan. In his head he ticked off countless excuses he could use for not making it back. None of them were viable.

A vivid flash followed by a loud crack pulled his attention back to the fury of the storm outside. His breath caught as blue lightning split the sky. Cold fear settled in the pit of his stomach and he had to force himself to pull air into his lungs. Unconsciously his artificial hand clenched as his body remembered another burst of hot blue lightning, one followed by blinding pain.

Slim arms encircling his waist startled him back into the present. Padmé's reassuring presence washed over him, easing the vice constricting his chest. Her silky robe cooled the electric fire his skin so vividly remembered as she pressed soothing kisses along his back.

How did she always seem to know when his demons were tormenting him? Did she realize it took only her touch to banish them back to the darkness?

He turned and drew her into his embrace. How long they stood that way he didn't know, but Anakin was able to close his eyes to the lightning. He let her presence work it's gentle magic. Neither the horrors of the past, nor the darkness of the present could touch him within the circle of her arms.

Outside the raging storm gradually abated to a gentle mist. The deluge had ended, leaving in its wake the fresh scent of a world washed clean. He was overcome by the absurd desire to stop time. In that instant he wanted nothing more than to stay here in their special place holding Padmé forever.

It was she who broke the silence. "You're leaving in the morning, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet and sad. From the sound of it he could tell she didn't really need an answer. Though she hadn't moved a muscle, Anakin felt her withdraw from him. A dull ache centered in his chest.

"Oh Padmé. We both know I have to go."

She nodded, her face buried in his chest. "Part of me knows. That part, the rational one, can even accept it if I have to. The other part just wants to run and hide from the loneliness that will start as soon as you walk out the door."

He stroked her sable curls, letting them flow through his fingers like liquid silk. Her words were true. There was nothing he could say to offer comfort, save perhaps a simple declaration. "I love you. I always have. Nothing will ever change that. You are my wife, my beautiful angel…the other half of my heart."

She pulled back and gazed up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. "I know, Ani. I love you too." She raised trembling hands to his face, tenderly touching his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, as if to memorizing every contour of his features. "I will miss you every moment."

He wasn't surprised to feel an answering sting in his own eyes. He kissed her fingertips as they traced his lips. "I can't remember a time when I didn't miss you."

He leaned down then to press his lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss, echoing the fading storm outside. Her arms reached up to encircle his neck as her fingers tangled in his hair. Their lips remained fused even when he scooped her up in his arms. His stride was strong and purposeful as he carried her back to the bed. He broke the kiss only long enough to lay her on top of the covers and whisper in her ear. "Padmé Skywalker, we have several hours before sunrise. I suggest we use the time wisely."

She did not disagree. In fact, she contributed several clever ideas of her own.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The rays of the morning sun burned away all traces of storm clouds shortly after dawn. Padmé woke to its warm light on her face and a refreshing rain scented breeze.

Somehow she knew, before even opening her eyes, that Anakin's place beside her was empty. Sitting up, she quickly scanned the room. The panic clutching her throat eased a little as she spotted the familiar dark cloak hanging on the door next to her own. As she climbed out of bed, she glanced toward the terrace. There he was, in his usual morning meditation spot, facing the distant horizon. Suddenly breathing was easier.

Pulling her silken robe around her she padded to the open door. Loathe to break her husband's concentration, she leaned against the wood frame. This need to center himself before beginning each day was something she understood. In fact, she often found herself wishing for an affinity to the Force so she could draw the same comfort and resolve from it that Anakin found. She envied him the additional source of strength, especially this morning as they once again faced separation.

Knowing Anakin would sense her anxiety she took a deep, calming breath and tried to marshal her chaotic emotions. Better to spend this last hour or so basking in his presence than waste it dreading his inevitable departure.

She'd much rather think about the vision he made as morning light bathed him in its hazy golden glow. The linen undertunic and pants clinging to his still-damp skin made it obvious he'd recently come from the 'fresher. It also clearly outlined the changes she had already noticed in his body. He had always been tall and well formed, but over the past year all traces of lankiness had been erased from his form. The promise of male beauty evident in his youth had been fulfilled in the added breadth of his shoulders, the sinewy strength in his arms and thighs and, yes, he'd grown taller too. As a man, Anakin Skywalker was breathtaking – a gilded vision of power and intensity. She stored the memory away for the long, lonely months ahead.

She noticed his hair was still wet too, which brought to mind a conversation they had shared the day before. In the course of teasing him about how long his hair had grown, he had replied that the war didn't leave much time for haircuts. The traditional padawan braid and the ponytail in back were still there, but easily lost in the over-long burnished waves that brushed his collar.

It was a simple thing to picture him without the telltale signs of his apprentice bond. She smiled at a mental image of Anakin in the formal robes of Knighthood, his wavy locks falling past his shoulders, streaked with gold courtesy of the suns of a hundred different systems. Yes, he would make a beautiful Jedi Knight.

She gave a small sigh, hoping the honor would not be far off. Her husband was not the most patient of men. As she'd done many times before, she prayed Anakin's suspicions were wrong, that Obi-Wan wasn't deliberately holding him back. Of all the things in the world that could hurt Ani, the idea that Obi-Wan lacked faith in him would top the list.

"Good morning." Anakin's voice wrapped around her like a hug. Like a good, strong hug. She could actually feel the pressure, like an invisible embrace.

"That's a neat trick, Jedi." Padmé replied, "but you'll have to settle for the real kind from me." She moved to stand beside him, arms winding tightly around his waist. He dropped his own arm over her shoulders and gave her an answering squeeze.

"Something besides my leaving is troubling you." The statement seemed more of a question. Sky-blue eyes opened to look down at her for the first time since she'd come out onto the porch.

It was tempting to deny her unrest and simplify their remaining time together, but Padmé found she couldn't lie to him. "I was just thinking what a beautiful Jedi you will make."

"And you find that thought…disturbing?" Anakin's voice deepened in mock seriousness, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

She started to deny the obvious before realizing that he was teasing her. "Well, yes, but not the way you mean." The corners of her mouth tilted upward, but even the light-hearted banter couldn't erase the worry from her eyes.

Anakin continued to probe, this time serious. "In what way then?"

"I wonder when Obi-Wan will let you face the trials." She gazed out over the lake, but her stare was blank, as if she hoped a glimpse of the future might be found just beyond the simple beauty of the sunrise.

It was Anakin's turn to sigh. "I've given up hoping it will be soon. With the war going on the trials seem to have been put on hold for everyone. There _have _been a few knights made on the battlefield, but just between you and me, I think it has more to do with how many Jedi are being killed in action than whether or not a padawan is ready. It hasn't been a very successful tactic so far. Most of the new knights wind up dead."

She tilted her face up to his, her expression a study in conflicting emotions. She was sure no one deserved elevation as much as Anakin, but that didn't keep her from being grateful he hadn't received the accolade under similar circumstances.

"Don't worry, Padmé. This war can't last forever. I've stopped obsessing about Obi-Wan holding me back and you should too. The point is moot. As soon as there is a reasonable break in the fighting I intend to seek the Council's consent to face my trials whether Obi-Wan gives permission or not."

"Is that allowed?" Her amber-brown eyes sought his.

"The Jedi are mired in their traditions, but I've read about exceptions in some of the old texts. It wouldn't be the first time the Council has disregarded Obi-Wan where I'm concerned, so it's a possibility I can't leave unexplored."

"And Obi-Wan?" she asked. "How will he react?"

Anakin exhaled thoughtfully and looked back out to the horizon. "I think it might hurt his pride, but I don't think he'll fight me on this. To say our relationship has been strained over the past year would be the height of understatement." Lines of concentration between his brows told Padmé he was wrestling the urge to say more. The impulse to be open with her must have won because he continued. "If the argument we had before I left Coruscant is any indication, I think he is as ready to be done with our union as I am. Not that it matters. I'm more certain than ever that I _will_ be a Knight. It's just a matter of when."

Padmé studied him intently, seeing he had indeed accepted this as truth. How different was the man before her from the reckless youth she'd married. He was still passionate, but far more centered; more set on following a path of his own making. She couldn't shake the feeling he still wasn't telling her everything, but had no desire to probe further. Instead, she decided to trust that it would all would work out one way or another. There were things one could control in life, and then there was Anakin…

"You've changed so much in the past year." She whispered, leaning her forehead on his chest. The thin linen of his Jedi undertunic was soft against her skin, but the flesh and blood beneath was solid and warm. Loving Anakin as a young man had been difficult. His brash unpredictability had been so far removed from anything she'd known before. This new Ani was more confident, purposeful, mature and far easier to love.

"The Chancellor reminds me often about the virtues of patience. I guess some of it was bound to soak in."

Anakin's words troubled her and it took a moment for her to realize why. Palpatine. For years she had trusted him implicitly. Lately, however, it had been a different story. Bail Organa was convinced he wasn't being forthcoming with his advisors or with the Senate. Still, he'd done so much for them… He was, without a doubt, one of Anakin's most trusted confidantes. Her husband admired him so much. Best to keep her suspicions to herself for now, until there was reason to share them.

Suddenly a loud buzz from inside the villa broke the peaceful silence. Someone was at the door. Without pause it sounded again, this time more insistently.

Anakin's eyes met Padmé's. An interruption could only mean one thing - their idyll was over. Nobody knew they were here. Nobody except…

"M'lady! M'lady please!" Dormé's voice called to them from the corridor. Her distress was evident, even through the heavy wooden door.

Padmé went inside to disengage the lock, her husband following close on her heels. Seconds later the frantic handmaiden, clad in dirty Naboo street clothes, darted into the room. She rushed to Padmé's side.

"Senator! You must hurry and get dressed! We've got to leave this place!" There was no mistaking Dormé's urgency. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her face and she struggled for breath. To the couple in the room she appeared to have run non-stop from Theed. "Everything's been destroyed! There's no time. We have to go now!"

Anakin slid an arm around the girl's shoulders, pulling her towards a nearby chair. "Dormé, slow down! You aren't making any sense. Take a deep breath and tell us what's going on." He tried to keep his tone soothing and firm, hoping to project an aura of calm for the obviously distraught woman.

Dormé did as he asked before trying to continue. "Master Anakin, the palace has been attacked! We have to find a safe place for Padmé!" It was a measure of her anxiety that she called them both familiar. No matter how close she and Padmé had become over the years, Dormé had always remained a stickler for formality.

Padmé stepped between her husband and her friend, reminding them that she was, in fact, present to decide her own fate. She spoke calmly and deliberately. "Dormé, please, I'm not going anywhere until I know everything."

"M'lady, Theed has been invaded! The Palace has been overtaken by Trade Federation troops and bombs have all-but destroyed the city." She paused for breath. "Their fleet exited hyperspace just outside the atmosphere and immediately overrode our security systems. Nobody saw them coming! Even the Royal Guard was taken totally by surprise."

Not difficult, Padmé thought. Naboo didn't have a state of the art surveillance system. As well, the Royal Guard was their only active military. Each soldier was little more than an enlisted volunteer. Granted, they were well trained and prepared to protect the monarchy with their lives, but their numbers were few: only several hundred ground forces and two small fighter squadrons. They would be ill prepared to deal with an all-out attack and wouldn't be able to hold off invaders for long. In fact, in Padmé's opinion, ordering them to try would be foolish waste of their lives.

"What is the situation at the palace?" She was afraid to ask, but she had to know.

"The structure itself is intact, but the main hangar bay took a direct hit. When I managed to escape through the main bay itself, I saw intact fighters. I doubt we could get them in the air, though. The ships themselves are buried in debris and STAPs are patrolling everywhere firing at anything that moves. I barely escaped with my life." Anakin's eyes met Padmé's as the handmaiden continued her story. "I took the old path down the cliff face to the secret bunker and found the Governor hiding there, along with a few other members of the Royal Council. They told me that Federation ground forces –some half dozen Multi-Troop Transports, and a full complement of fifty Armored Assault Tanks – are even now heading for the outlying settlements and the Gungan cities."

Padmé's face drained of all color. Theed? The palace? Otoh Gunga? Fifty tanks and over 600 droid foot soldiers meant the loss of life would be staggering! Perhaps it already had been. But there was more. She could tell Dormé was still holding something back.

"What aren't you telling me?" She prompted insistently.

Dormé cast her gaze to the floor.

"Dormé!"

"I'm so sorry, m'lady. Since the first aerial assault there has been no word on the Queen's whereabouts. I've been able to learn nothing of her fate. The Governor says he fears the worst, that she may be dead." Her friend raised anguished liquid-brown eyes.

"And the Royal Guard? The Queen's handmaidens?" Padmé couldn't keep the dread from her voice.

"I'm told many gave their lives to protect Her Majesty during the invasion. Nobody knows how many or whom." The words rang with chilling finality. Padmé knew what their utterance had cost her friend. Not only was Dormé's husband a member of the guard, but her sister, Noalé, had recently followed their family's tradition and entered the personal service of Queen Jamillia. This news meant both were unaccounted for.

Anakin saw that Padmé needed a minute to collect her thoughts and remained silent. Truth be told, he could use a few moments to do the same. Why hadn't he felt something through the Force? True, he'd been preoccupied, but being on the same world as an attack of this magnitude and feeling nothing was unthinkable.

"I have to go to Theed." His wife's words were quietly uttered, but there was cold resolve in them that spoke volumes.

His chest tightened and an objection sprang to his lips. "No! They'll be looking for political targets! That means you'll be on their list. Padmé, the Trade Federation forces don't take prisoners!"

His words fell on deaf ears.

"Anakin, we are all sworn to serve the Queen first and foremost. She trusts me to do what is right. Besides, I know that palace better than anyone. If there is a way to get in and search, I can find it." He started to object again, but her hand on his arm gave him pause. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this!" She stood and started for the bedroom.

Anakin met Dormé's pleading gaze. Tears cut silver tracks down her cheeks. "Please, m'lord, you can't let her go!"

"Tell me a power on this world or any other that could stop her." He set his lips in a grim line. "That doesn't mean I can't go with her."

He gave the handmaiden a small smile that wasn't very reassuring, before disappearing after Padmé.

Anakin entered the bedchamber as Padmé was twisting her dark hair into a secure knot at the nape of her neck. She watched his reflection in the dresser mirror.

"I'm going with you." His words came as no surprise to her.

"I know. My Jedi bodyguard." Ironic, after all they'd been through, that they were back to these old, familiar roles. She didn't even try to curb the amusement in her voice. Any reason to smile, even a fleeting, melancholy one, was a welcome thing. She suspected the next few hours would bring only sorrow.

Anakin walked up behind his wife, squeezing her shoulders in a gesture of support before crouching to meet her eyes in the mirror's polished surface. "You should be prepared. There won't be much left of the Palace – or the city, for that matter – when the battle droids and AATs finish with it."

She saw the concern in his ice blue eyes. Apprehension and something more. It was frighteningly familiar. She'd seen that same combination, fear and resolve, on his face as he left the Tatooine homestead to search for his mother. The same unyielding determination as when he had promised, at her graveside, never to fail again.

"Is there nothing I can say to keep you from going?" His words were carefully neutral, but his eyes pleaded with hers.

"Anakin, I love you, but this is my home. If I don't go it will be like turning my back on Naboo, giving up without a fight! I can't do that." She felt unwelcome tears fill her eyes, and compensated for the obvious vulnerability by squaring her shoulders.

She could tell he was wrestling against the urge to say more. Evidently he decided there was no point. His lips thinned and his expression became shuttered.

"I had to ask." He rose and gently kissed the crown of her head before turning to begin wrapping his multi-layered Jedi tunic.

Padmé rose from the dresser, relieved that there would be no argument. She finished fastening her black flight suit and crossed to the stand holding her open travel case. Reaching in, she pulled out a leather gunbelt and cinched it around her waist. The seldom-used leather creaked as she bent back over the valise. A small but lethal looking silver blaster came out next. She checked the gauge at the side of the weapon to be sure it was fully charged, then settled it into the holster on her thigh. Every motion was purposeful and efficient, a direct contrast to the emotions roiling through her.

Among the chaos of thoughts in her head, one truth was very clear. An hour ago she would have said she couldn't love Anakin more. Now she knew otherwise. Those four last words contained a wealth of understanding that surpassed even the most flowery promises or impassioned pleas. They had melted her heart. He didn't know it, but he'd just given her a priceless gift. He had chosen to honor her feelings and her commitment, despite his own well-justified misgivings.

She knew without a doubt that he would stand by her and make this mission his own. For the first time since Dormé's arrival she felt a glimmer of hope.

They finished dressing in silence and returned to the sitting room a short time later. It was obvious that Dormé had used the time alone to compose herself. She looked up as they entered.

"M'lady, you know the Separatists will be searching for you."

"I know. That's why Anakin is going with me. You will need to lead them away from the palace." Padmé's tone was firm.

Dormé looked set to argue. "M'lady, my own safety isn't an issue here, but I can't protect you if I'm not with you." Protecting her charge was the task uppermost in her mind. To her, it made no sense for them to split up. It was true they all served the Queen, but Dormé's pledge was to protect Padmé at all costs; if need be, to give her life in the effort. There was another fact to consider, as well. If the worst came to pass and Her Majesty was killed it would fall to Amidala, as the previous Queen, to rule in her place until a new monarch could be elected.

"I'm sorry Dormé. I know my responsibilities, but I have to go where I'm needed most." Clearly Padmé's mind was made up and she wouldn't be swayed. "Anakin could go alone, but he's a stranger to the Palace. I know the hiding places and the exits. That makes me our best chance of getting in and finding the Queen, or anyone else who might still be alive." She tried to give her friend a reassuring smile. "I'm sure the invaders know I'm here on Naboo. I imagine they're scouring every inch of the palace for me as we speak. The best thing you can do is buy time for anyone still in hiding, and for us, by drawing security patrols away. Dormé, you are the only one who can do this. I'm relying on you."

Although every fiber of her being wanted to protest, Dormé's years of training and ever-present loyalty reasserted itself in the face of duty. It was true that anyone still hiding in the castle stood a better chance if the troops searching the grounds were lured away.

"Yes, m'lady, you know you can count on me." She looked down at her pants and smock, a wry expression on her face. The garments were torn and dirty from climbing down the cliff face. "I think perhaps a change of clothing is in order. Something a bit more senatorial." She tried her best to smile at Padmé. Understandably, the expression still appeared forced.

Padmé responded in kind, glad to have her friend back on the team. "Yes, I completely agree."

Dormé turned toward the bedroom, only to be halted as Padmé spoke again. "And, Dormé... there's an extra blaster in the upper closet compartment." The handmaiden nodded before resuming her course.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Half an hour later the trio found themselves onboard a civilian-class speeder blazing over the grasslands towards Theed. Anakin had found the craft in the caretaker's garage. One of several vehicles he could've chosen, this particular speeder had the advantage of swiftness and an enclosed passenger compartment. It had something else as well: a pair of hydroengines that would allow it to alternate between travel over land or water. It seemed a practical adaptation for a world like Naboo. Of course, cross-wiring the ignition had been no challenge.

Dormé stared out the window from her vantage point behind the pilot's chair. She appeared composed and resolute in Padmé's blue-gray senatorial gown, her hair swept up in an elaborate style.

The object of her impersonation sat next to Anakin, carefully reviewing readouts on a small hand-held datapad.

The plan was to find a discreet location for the speeder, ditch the craft and make their way in to the palace hangar bay. Once inside, they would locate a functional ship capable of outrunning Federation starfighters. It should be simple at that point to ensure the Senator's decoy would be seen climbing aboard. The vessel could then blast it's way out of the dock towards open space. While debris might block the runway for small N-1 & N-2 starfighters, Anakin felt certain it would be no obstacle for a luxury class Nubian ship. If the ruse succeeded, any ongoing search for Senator Amidala at the Palace should end.

Anakin prayed the plan would succeed, though in his experience it was rare to pull off even well thought out plans without a hitch. Infiltrating the castle would be significantly easier without having to avoid ongoing searches by security patrols.

Padmé interrupted his contemplation. "We'll head for the gardens. The forest to the south can give us ground cover for the speeder and it isn't likely that the invaders have much set up there by way of security. From those woods we can enter a small utility outpost and take the tunnels in to the power generator complex. I don't know if you remember, but the complex adjoins the main hangar."

"Tunnels?" Anakin sounded intrigued.

"There are a myriad of underground tunnels running under the palace grounds – a holdover from Naboo's less peaceful days. I guess maybe you were a little young to remember, but we used them to sneak into the palace during the blockade crisis."

"I'm thinking it has less to do with my age and more to do with the fact that I didn't make it into the palace proper. I got a little distracted blowing up the Droid Control Ship, remember?" Anakin couldn't let Padmé's off-hand comment slide without some type of teasing response. Now that she mentioned it, he did vaguely recall walking through dark, musty corridors before finding himself climbing into the cockpit of an N-1 fighter.

She slid him an amused glance. "Oh yes, that's right. I guess you were a little busy that day."

Anakin had to admit her plan sounded reasonable. The alternative, of course, was just to walk right in the front door and meet the opposition head-on. Not the best idea considering there were only three of them. Perhaps surprise was wiser.

Although his eyes were fixed on the path in front of him, his mind filtered through the information Padmé had given him about the castle and grounds. He'd pressed her for every detail she could recall, knowing that the strangest bit of information could be their salvation in unforeseen circumstances. Once they reached the woods there wouldn't be time to second-guess their mission. Getting Dormé off-planet as quickly as possible was critical to beginning the search for anyone left alive.

The route down from the lake country to the cliff-side city of Theed was winding and difficult, especially if one wanted to stay off the main thoroughfares. Anakin opted for the course of least resistance. As he crossed a branch of Solleu, Naboo's main river, he flipped the land-to-water converter switch and turned the speeder on a course over the waves.

According to the on-board navchart, this tributary would take them right to the edge of the woods near the gardens. If his suspicions were correct, Federation forces would be ignoring the waterways. The best thing about this course was it wouldn't lead them into the city. He hoped to spare Padmé the unpleasant task of facing the damage from the bombing as long as possible. There would be time enough for her to absorb the enormity of the destruction to her home. For now, she needed to remain focused on the job at hand.

Sure enough, the offshoot of the river took them right to the edge of the forest near the palace. Finding a place to hide the speeder in the dense underbrush was easy, as was finding their way into the small shack that led to the tunnels. The subterranean passageways were a bit more of a challenge as they had only the emergency light from Anakin's utility belt. A time or two he chose to use his lightsaber to dispatch a slithering creature, but otherwise their path was unimpeded.

After a lengthy walk, and several wrong turns, they ascended a set of rough permacrete stairs to find themselves at a small portal. From the symbol on the durasteel hatchway, it looked to be the entrance to the main power generator building.

Anakin searched for a locking mechanism, finding only a simple code panel with a dozen or so dimly lit buttons. They appeared to be marked with random letters from the Naboo alphabet.

"It takes an access code." His voice was impatient and he reached for the lightsaber on his hip.

"Wait!" Padmé slid forward. "I bet they haven't changed the codes since before I was queen." She quickly punched a series of symbols. Sure enough, the door slid open. Anakin saw her give a small, satisfied smirk.

Anakin peered around the open doorway into a small control room. No security yet. He detached his lightsaber from his belt anyway, balancing it loosely in his palm. This place made him uneasy. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something hung heavy in the air. He had the strangest sense that he was being drawn somewhere.

How ridiculous. It was probably just that dark corridors and hidden passages brought a sense of drama to this whole thing. He gave himself a mental shake and the feeling dissipated somewhat.

They passed quickly and quietly through the room to a service corridor on the other side. The passage was long and narrow as they moved along. Frequently they were forced to dip under the occasional duct or step over a hot vent pipe. Flickering red and blue lights from various monitor panels combined with lamps inset on the baseboards to give the walkway a faintly purple luminescent glow.

"Creepy." Dormé uttered the word under her breath, but the other two heard it and agreed wholeheartedly.

They followed the corridor until it ended abruptly at a tapered opening just wide enough for a single person to squeeze through. Anakin moved through the portal into a huge circular room. He appeared to be on some kind of ledge about an arm-span wide, the rim of which encircled a huge pit. Anakin froze. Whatever he'd felt pulling him, it led to this place. A chill ran up his spine and he forced himself to take a breath.

"Stay here," he muttered in a tone that brooked no argument. They remained where they were in the passageway.

Anakin looked around slowly. The walls housed a myriad of shadowed recesses, pipe housings and electrical assemblies, none of which gave him cause for concern. He crossed to the pit, peering over the edge into the darkness. Of course. It was a melting pit; a disposal unit for the power station's residue. The Temple had a similar – if somewhat larger – set-up. Vertical lighting tracks in the metal refuse tube started just below the rim and disappeared down into the abyss. Annular red lamps stuck out like unblinking eyes protruding from the walls several feet down.

There was a presence here – a cold, oppressive spirit that seemed to emanate from the very depths of the pit itself – and it chilled him to the bone.

Anakin crossed to the pit, peering over the edge into the void. The aura intensified and grated over his nerves like discordant music. He stretched out his hand toward the darkness, closing his eyes in deep concentration.

The visions came to him almost immediately. It was, Anakin thought, oddly like dreaming while awake. Picture after picture from all those years ago crowded into his head. Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan running after the shadowy Sith warrior. The warrior himself, with his crown of horns, vividly tattooed face and strange double-bladed lightsaber.

The images came faster now: leaping among the catwalks, finding the passageway, barriers of light. Then, in the blink of an eye, Qui-Gon's end at the hands of his dark opponent.

Anakin heard Obi-Wan's agonized scream, unaware that he'd echoed it aloud. He saw the wall drop, saw Obi-Wan lunge for Qui-Gon's murderer. Saw his master's attacks against the Sith, moves faster and more powerful than any he'd ever seen before. He felt the fury that emanated from Jedi and Sith alike.

Once, twice, three times Anakin thought his Master would fall to the dark Lord only to have Obi-Wan escape by a hair's breadth. He felt Obi-Wan's elation as he split the handle of the Sith weapon in two; cringed at his master's overconfidence as he lunged for his opponent's head and missed; watched as the Jedi lost his grip on his lightsaber and slid helplessly over the rim into the pit.

Anakin forgot to breathe as the spectral Obi-Wan grabbed desperately for purchase, finding it in the protruding lamp. He felt his master's anger dissolve into desperation, then return gradually to focus and peace.

The Sith's emotions crackled through him as well. Impatience as he paced the rim of the pit. Wrath as he made wild strikes against the edge with his saber. Disbelief as Obi-Wan launched himself into the air, calling Qui-Gon's saber into his hand. Agony as the emerald blade bisected his torso, then nothing but the black abyss as he followed it down…down…down…

That same rage, bitterness and hatred were all still here in this room, remnants of the Sith, irrevocably tied to the place and circumstance of his death.

"Anakin!" He felt something yank him backwards, back against the floor and back into the present. Hands shook him roughly. "Anakin, please!"

His eyes opened to see his wife kneeling beside him, horror written on her face.

How had he gotten here, on his back at the rim of the pit?

Padmé wound both arms around him, drawing him farther back from the edge. He hugged her, not fully understanding her fear or the significance of what had just taken place, but sensing her need for comfort.

"What happened?" Clearly he'd missed something.

She hugged him tighter. "I don't know. You shouted something and fell to your knees. We ran to you just as you were reaching into the pit."

Anakin blinked in confusion. Reaching into the pit? Perhaps trying to saveObi-Wan? He shook his head to clear it.

"This place," he muttered, "there is something dark about it. Something I couldn't place at first."

"And now you know?" Padmé voice was steady, but the tremor in her arms conveyed her unease.

"Yes. Now I know." Anakin released her and sat up gingerly, running a hand through his hair. "This place is where Master Qui-Gon died."

Padmé nodded, laying her hand on Anakin's shoulder as if touching him would reassure her that he was all right. "I should've remembered that. Master Kenobi recounted the incident in great detail to the Palace's investigative committee. Still, that fact alone should not send you diving headfirst into thermal reactor!"

He rose unsteadily to his feet, taking his wife's hand and helping her up as well. "Padmé, the Sith died here too. He fell down there when Obi-Wan killed him." Anakin motioned towards the melting pit. "Some part of him is still here, an essence left behind when he died." He paused, looking uncertainly into the darkness. "There _is _still danger here."

"No argument from me!" Padmé retorted.

"Well, if we're all in agreement, then maybe we could go before something happens that scares another ten years off our lives." Dormé offered her practical suggestion from where she stood behind them.

"Fine by me." Anakin was more than ready to be rid of the stifling evil of this place. Foreboding still curled in his stomach as they turned towards a doorway on the opposite side of the room. The exit appeared to lead to a service corridor. A hint from his recent vision nudged at his memory. There was something about that passage...

The hum of capacitors gave only a split-second warning as they entered the darkened hallway. Anakin reached for both women, pulling them back just as a solid barrier of energy formed in front of them. Four more barriers locked into position beyond the first.

"Well, _that_ was intense!" Dormé exclaimed.

Anakin burst out laughing and both women cast him looks that seemed to say he'd obviously just lost his grip on sanity. "I'm sorry, but am I the only one who finds it odd that Naboo has no planetary defenses, but your power disposal unit is secured against all intruders?"

Padmé shot him a withering look. Obviously she preferred to appear less than amused by the irony of the situation. When she spoke her voice was laced with sarcasm. "How about you impress me with your amazing Jedi powers and figure a way out of this."

"Well, OK." Anakin replied. "I suggest we wait a few minutes and try to stand very still. The barriers appear to be motion activated, so they'll drop faster if we don't move. Even if we _did_ move, they're on a pulse charge system. Eventually they'll have to drop to recharge. When the one in front of us falls, jump to the next section of the hallway. We'll do the same thing to get through the next four barriers. It won't be quick, but it should see us through to the other side." Anakin walked up to the wall. Padmé and Dormé followed him. All stood a respectable distance from the barrier.

"That's it? What's the catch?" Padmé seemed incredulous at a security system that could be so easily bypassed.

"The catch is that if you try to go too far at once you'll hit the next reforming energy wall. It'll send a shock through your body that you won't soon forget. That is, _if_ you survive it at all."

Padmé and Dormé shared a dubious look before all three settled in to wait.

It was only a matter of minutes before the barrier dropped. The other four quit in rapid succession as each dampening field powered down. Silence echoed conspicuously after the loud hum of the transformers. Jedi, Senator and handmaiden remained perfectly still, as if waiting for some unspoken signal.

Though he continued to stare straight ahead, Anakin took the opportunity to remind them of the plan. "When I give the word I want you both to run. Remember, just far enough to get past _this_ barrier. We'll only have enough time to clear this one wall. Understood?" He felt more than heard their agreement.

"So, are you ready?" he asked.

Although they each gave a soft affirmative he stopped to glance at them out of the corner of his eye. They remained motionless, but tension was evident in their stance.

He didn't delay. "Go!" he shouted, waiting until he felt them move before following suit. The buzz of the igniting capacitor vibrated through the air as they cleared the first barrier, sliding to a stop several feet short of the next energy wall just as it materialized in front of them.

They looked at each other, then at the barrier, then at each other again. Padmé was first to speak. "Let me guess. We get to do it all over again?"

"You guessed it." Anakin nodded, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. For a moment Padmé could've sworn she detected a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. She studied him intently before deciding she must've been mistaken.

Once again they waited for the barrier to fall, then jumped, clearing it without a hitch. The last three went just as easily and they soon found themselves at the end of the corridor facing the exit.

Dormé looked back over her shoulder at the energy fields. "Hey, that was kind of fun." Her eyes had lost a little of the lifelessness they had held since her arrival at the lake retreat that morning.

"Yes, I've got to hand it to you. You sure know how to show a lady a good time." Padmé flashed him the wide smile he dearly loved.

He tried not to let the relief he felt show in his face. It seemed the shock of the attack was starting to wear off where both women were concerned. A good sign, as he needed them in fighting form and able to focus on what lay ahead.

He grinned back at his beloved. "Well, I've been known to rise to the occasion a time or two.

The double-entendre wasn't lost on her. "Just once or twice." She replied with a sly sidelong glance.

Excellent, Anakin thought, the barrier exercise had served its purpose. He hoped they were feeling forgiving because he was about to tip his hand.

He crossed to the control panel by the door, staring intently at it for several seconds. Pulling a small data pad from his belt pouch, he ran a wire from the hand-held device to the wall panel using a standard upload socket connector. Once the link was secure he typed in a few short commands. Without warning the panel erupted in a shower of sparks. The hum behind them wound down pathetically as the energy barriers flickered and died.

"There." Anakin mumbled, disconnecting the datapad. "You never know when you'll need a clean get-away route."

Dormé couldn't resist adding her own comment. "What if you're being followed at that point?"

Anakin flashed his mocking grin at her. "Well, then, we'll have to hope we can turn the barriers on again from the other end of the hallway." He traded his teasing look for one that was appropriately abashed as he waited for comprehension to dawn.

It only took a second for Dormé's brown eyes to widen in understanding. "You mean you could've just –"

"Yup. There are control panels on either end of the hallway. I could've disarmed them before we ever crossed the first one." Perhaps smug confidence was the wrong impression to project.

Dormé advanced on him with what appeared to be murderous intent. Anakin raised his hands defensively. "Hey! You said it was fun!"

"Not as fun as this is going to be!" The handmaiden reached for his throat as he backed away, ducking out of her reach only to bump into Padmé.

"Give a guy a break, would ya? I really did need to know that you were both with me on this." They looked doubtful and still just a touch homicidal. "I had to find out how things would be once we got in to the palace. It hasn't been an easy morning for either of you; you've been a little distracted. I just wanted to be sure you were focused and willing to listen to what I tell you."

"And did you find us _focused_ enough?" Padmé punched him gently on the shoulder.

"You're doing just fine." He smiled at them again, seeing that they really did understand and were only giving him a hard time.

"Come on!" He motioned towards the doorway. "We've got Separatists to dispatch and people to rescue!"

They followed him through the portal.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author Note:** Thank you, everyone,for the welcoming and thoughtful replies:) Hm. Does the story end happily? As happily as can be expected, given that I try not to conflict with anything in the canon films. My original intent was basically to fill in some empty space between AOTC & ROTS. In other words, I think I end this story on an upbeat note (yes, the end is already written), but then you've got everything that happens in Episode III to bring you crashing back to earth. _

**Chapter 5 **

Once through, they found themselves facing a narrow bridge in one of the starship complex's main generator rooms. It was a vast, cavernous place filled with mazes of criss-crossing catwalks on every level. The clatter of heavy machinery from below and the pressure release valves releasing steam every few seconds were deafening. The entire room was unbearably hot and filled with moisture that hang heavy in the air.

Enormous pillars of energy stretched from generators many stories below all the way up to receptors in the ceiling. These pale blue columns of light created a glow that cut through the misty haze.

Padmé consulted her datapad before sliding it back into her pocket. Shouting to be heard over the din, she pointed to the opposite side of the structure. "Unless I miss my guess, we want to make it all the way over there."

On the other side of the room, two levels up and far to the right, was a fairly large platform boasting several possible exits. It did indeed appear to be the most likely way into the hangar bay.

Anakin surveyed the room for the most direct path through. The catwalks themselves were lit and easy to see, but it was clear that even those closest together were still several meters apart – much too far for anyone without Force powers to jump.

"Let's cross here and then find a way up." He suggested, taking off in approximately the right direction over the bridge they stood on.

Padmé arched a brow towards her friend. "At least he didn't suggest swinging over on a cable."

Dormé conveyed her gratitude with a small smile. "Yes. I truly am grateful for the little things." They chased after Anakin, catching up to him where the bridge ended in front of a magnetically sealed hatchway.

Anakin pointed out small built-in handles protruding from the wall next to the portal. They led up several meters to a narrow ledge that circled a good portion of this side of the chamber; the ledge itself passed directly under the platform they sought.

"You go first." He nodded to his wife, who quickly started upward. Dormé gamely hitched up her skirt and pursued. Anakin hesitated, giving her space to maneuver her bulky garments, before following them both.

Once they made it up to the ledge it wasn't difficult to slide around the rim until they were directly under their objective. Another of the built in wall ladders enabled them to easily reach their destination. As they stepped onto the platform they quickly took stock of their surroundings.

The area was bigger than it had seemed from the other side of the chamber. A stairway on the far side led to some unknown location further into the generator complex. Directly in front of them was a large blast door marked for access to the hangar bay. Opening it would announce their arrival in no uncertain terms.

An idea occurred to Anakin and he turned to Padmé. "Where are the Nubian vessels kept compared to where we are?"

She drew out her datapad once more and pulled up a schematic of the hangar. Pointing to the long bottom edge she said, "We're here." Then she drew an imaginary line across the main body of the hangar bay to the far top corner, the one closest to the palace. "The Queen's vessels are here. My ship is in a private bay just in front of them, closer to the fighters."

"So we need to cross the hangar to reach any of them." It was more a statement than a question.

Padmé nodded. "My yacht has recently been equipped with a hyperdrive upgrade. It isn't much, as lightspeed goes, but it will get Dormé out of the area fast."

"Not to mention that I can actually fly it on my own." The handmaiden pointed out wryly.

"That's the one then." Anakin turned back to the door as Padmé put away her datapad. He tried reaching out with the Force to sense if there could be danger waiting for them immediately on the other side. Nothing came back to him. He reminded himself that droid soldiers didn't give off any Force signatures. Then he noticed a small lift to one side of the door.

"Where does that go?" He motioned toward the platform.

Padmé glanced over at it. She'd never taken much notice of utility accesses. "I think it goes up to the racks. It's something of a second level storage area just under the roof, a housing of sorts for equipment, spare parts and non-functional crafts.

"So, this could take us somewhere we can cross they main hangar undetected?" His blue eyes sparkled at this new possibility.

"Yes, now that you mention it, the upper level area covers the entire bay…" Padmé's voice trailed off as she followed his train of thought. It could work. "We should be able to go up to the second story and cross the width of the building. With any luck, a lift on the other side can take us down to the access corridors just outside the private hangars."

That was good enough for Anakin. "Let's go then!"

As they climbed onto the platform Padmé pushed the green button on the lift control. Immediately they found themselves whisked upward to a small metal catwalk just below the ceiling. Stepping off onto the walkway they saw it led to yet another small hatch.

Anakin pulled out his saber. Odds were that they wouldn't run into anything up here, but he only bet on sure things where Padmé's life was concerned. He waved at the access panel and the door slid open.

The first thing they noticed was the expanse of blue sky visible through gaping holes in the roof.

Padmé gasped audibly. Dormé, already familiar with the damage, put a steadying hand on her friend's shoulder. Aside from billowing smoke as they approached the city, this was the first real evidence of destruction they'd encountered. Cautiously they stepped into the storage area.

Far to their right, towards the mouth of the hangar bay, huge chunks of the ceiling were simply gone. The floor under those areas was gone as well, leaving the hangar below open to their view. It was obvious from the severity of the damage that this facility had been a primary target for AAT missile attacks. From their vantage point they could see that much of the marble floor at ground level was pitted and covered in charred debris. Twisted pieces of metal were everywhere, barely recognizable sections that only hinted at yellow paint and mirror polished durasteel. Padmé turned away from the sight, back to the hatchway that would lead them back down the other side.

Anakin stepped ahead of both women, proceeding forward slowly, checking the floor as he went. So much of the roof had fallen there was no telling if what remained was solid.

They clung to the interior wall, the one furthest from the damaged area, doing their best to blend in to the shadows. It was slow going as they detoured to avoid weak patches in the structure, but they made it across without incident.

As they went through the small hatchway on the other side Padmé couldn't resist looking back over her shoulder.

"Since the war started I've seen this kind of destruction so often on other worlds. I thought I knew what to expect. I never knew it would hurt this much - " Her voice broke as she turned away again from the sight of so much crumbling stone. It wouldn't do to dwell on this right now. There was too much work to be done before taking stock of what was left of her home.

They took a lift down to a small service room that exited into a lengthy hallway. Decorative arched windows all along the exterior side of the passage were blown out and glass shards covered the marble floor, glittering in the late afternoon sunlight.

Padmé, familiar with this section of the palace, didn't hesitate to dash towards a specific door. Anakin and Dormé followed as she entered a code on the security panel. The portal opened instantly and they rushed inside.

Her Nubian yacht was there. The tiny mirror-finished ship appeared untouched in the darkened private bay. Closed durasteel blast doors made up the entire wall across from the entrance. Apparently the doors had done their job, shielding the ship well from the damage so evident in the main hangar bay.

Anakin quickly turned to the access panel inside the door, removing the cover to expose the electrical system underneath. "Just a quick adjustment here and this door should stay closed for a while." He pulled a small tool out of his belt, cutting several wires before selecting two and twisting them together. "That should do it."

Padmé spoke from just behind him, "There is a surveillance monitor in here that feeds to the main control room. Fortunately it only covers the ship from one angle. As long as we stay here by the entryway we shouldn't be visible." She turned to Dormé. "You know how to access the override code to open the blast doors from inside the ship." Dormé nodded. "From the look of things in the hangar you won't have any trouble making a getaway. Most likely there will be tanks outside, but their guns won't be able to track you if you can burn out at full throttle."

The two women embraced for a long moment. Neither was comfortable with the situation and their reluctance to part was obvious. For Dormé, leaving her charge in danger went against every rule of her training. Padmé simply hated sending her friend out into danger.

"I promise we'll find out what happened to everyone," Padmé murmured as they parted, "especially Noalé and Danel."

"Thank you m'lady." Dormé's eyes swam with unshed tears at the mention of her sister and her husband. "Coruscant is too far. I'll be heading to Alderaan. I have a feeling Senator Organa will be anxious to know the situation here. This could so easily have happened on his own world."

"You're right." Padmé agreed. "Alderaan is the perfect place to seek sanctuary and help. If I know Bail, he'll take word of this outrage directly to the Senate floor." She kissed Dormé's cheek. "Be safe."

"You too, m'lady." She turned to go.

"Dormé." Anakin called softly from his position by the door. Eyes so like his beloveds flashed back toward him. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Master Jedi. Keep her safe!" With a final tearful nod towards Padmé the loyal handmaiden turned and ran to the ship. She had barely climbed aboard when heavy metal footsteps could be heard rushing in the corridor outside.

Anakin ignited his lightsaber, flattening himself along the wall to the left of the doorway. Padmé curled into a small crevice between two concrete pillars on the other side, blaster held at the ready.

In moments Dormé managed to fire up the engines on the silver cruiser. Less than a minute after that the huge blast doors began to open into the main hangar. Daylight spilled into the small bay as laser fire angled in from the slowly widening gap. The makeshift lock on the door was holding, though Anakin and Padmé could hear droids working furiously at the security panel on the other side.

"We've got to get out of here. I'm not sure how long the patch I set up will keep them out." Anakin scanned the room for an alternative exit, his eyes finally lighting on a ventilation cover in the corner closest to them. He deactivated his saber and ran over to it. One good yank pulled the grate from the wall to reveal a dark opening less than a meter square.

Anakin looked back at his wife. Padmé couldn't seem to take her eyes off the departing Nubian vessel. They both felt the wave of heat from the afterburners as the ship lifted from the floor and turned toward the main bay. Laser blasts from battle droid rifles below glanced harmlessly off the mirrored surface.

"Come on!" Anakin shouted. "She'll be fine!" Padmé looked dubious, her gaze darting between her husband and the ship.

The yacht cleared the small dock and moved into the main hangar. Suddenly, full thrusters engaged and it roared out of sight.

Padmé's relief was palpable and she ran to Anakin's side. "Through there?"

He nodded, motioning her toward the opening in the wall. She scrambled into the darkness as Anakin crawled in behind her. He pulled the grate back into place behind him not a moment too soon. The jury-rigged lock on the door gave out and battle droids could be heard pouring into the hangar from the now unsecured doorway.

On hands and knees the pair rapidly made their way through the pitch-black crawlspace, the sounds from Padmé's hangar bay receding behind them. The tunnel wasn't long and they soon found themselves emerging through an identical grate in a neighboring docking bay.

In the relative darkness of the storage facility it took a moment for Anakin to recognize the familiar outline of the ship sitting in front of them. It was his own starfighter! He circled it quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when it appeared to be undamaged.

"My ship!" He explained. "I can send a coded transmission to Coruscant! Maybe even ask them to send reinforcements!"

Padmé nodded, hardly daring to hope. Dormé's words were still ringing in her head: fifty tanks, six hundred droid soldiers, STAPs everywhere. Still, it would be best to try all available avenues of help.

Anakin canceled the security code lock on the ship before jumping topside. As the starfighter came on-line the R4-P unit activated, whistling a chipper greeting.

"No time to chat Arfour." Anakin slid into the cockpit as it opened, putting on the comlink headband. "I've got to send a message to Coruscant, scramble code 5, for Master Windu." The droid pulled up the comm system, boosting the power automatically. Anakin waited for the link to open, tapping his fingers impatiently on the console. The code he'd used was for emergencies and he expected a quick response.

"Padawan Skywalker." Mace Windu's voice was clear as a holo of his face flickered above the cockpit console. Though the video transmission wavered, Anakin could make out lines of worry on the Council leader's face. "We are aware of the situation on Naboo. It is good to see you safe."

"You know of the attack?" Anakin was incredulous. "Why haven't clone reinforcements been sent?"

"Naboo was only one of many systems to see hostility today. Ryloth and Calamari in the outer rim, Bothawui and Kashyyyk in the mid rim and Taanab in the inner rim were also struck. Our forces were already stretched beyond thin, but we tried to marshal troops to send to each world. Just as we were about to dispatch them we discovered Kamino was also under full-scale assault." The Jedi Master shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry Anakin, but we had to send the units there to protect the cloning facility. They've got to get the next generation of clones off-world to safety."

Anakin couldn't hide his disillusionment. "You're protecting soldiers while civilians are dying?"

Mace was clearly growing impatient. "We're protecting the future of the Republic, padawan. There isn't time to debate. I know Naboo is special to you, but we have to consider the greater good of the galaxy."

"Master, the Queen of Naboo is missing." Anakin tried to keep his voice neutral as he explained. "Senator Amidala is with me, but she is adamant about trying to rescue the ruler of her people."

Master Windu gave a long-suffering sigh, looking down. Anakin could imagine him pressing the fingertips of his hands together contemplatively. "It is inevitable, I suppose, that you assist her in that endeavor."

The younger man nodded with a degree of confidence beyond his years. "I believe it is essential to the survival of the Naboo civilization."

"I trust your judgment in this matter." Mace decided. "Please keep us informed of your progress."

"I will Master." It wasn't much by way of encouragement, but it was enough. He had the Council's blessing and confidence.

Master Windu raised his gaze again. "Padawan Skywalker, these are dark and dangerous times. Take care to tread lightly, and may the Force be with you." A breath later the holo disappeared.

Anakin climbed from the cockpit to find Padmé examining her datapad. She looked up at him as he dropped to his feet beside her.

"They aren't coming." There was a wealth of resignation and weariness in her voice.

"No, they aren't. Something about an assault on Kamino and protecting the future of the Republic." He tried very hard not to sound bitter or angry, though he certainly felt both. "One day I'm going to happily say to hell with the galaxy and do what is best for us."

A ghost of a smile hovered on Padmé's lips, as if she could imagine making just such a decision herself. "I'm sure the Council and the Senate are doing what they feel is best." The familiar mantra about duty came easily, through years of practice. For the hundredth time that day she squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. "Now we need to do what we came to do."

He dropped an arm around her shoulder, peering at the datapad in her hands. "On the up-side," Anakin murmured in his off-hand way, "the council gave me their blessing to stay and help you."

"That's certainly different." She did smile then. Anakin was here with her _and_ the council approved. All was not lost.

"Here's a schematic of the castle grounds." She angled the viewer so he could see it better. "There are several places security might take the queen if her life was threatened; safe rooms, lined so heavily that no life sign readings show from outside. I think they were built around the same time as the tunnels." She pointed to four general areas as she spoke. "This one is near the throne room. This one is on the top floor, near her sleeping quarters. This one, in the basement and the last is near the exit to the garden."

"I think we should start at the top and work our way down." Anakin suggested. "It seems as good a plan as any."

She turned her face up to his and he couldn't resist dropping a firm kiss on her lips.

"What was that for?" she breathed as he pulled away.

"That was because I still believe in luck." He hugged her tight. "I love you."

"And I love you." She gave him an answering squeeze before sliding her datapad back into her pocket. "Thank you." Her voice was so soft he almost couldn't hear.

"Hey now, none of that. My place is here with my wife. When she needs me I wouldn't be anywhere else." It was his turn to give her an encouraging grin before he turned to pitch his cloak into the cockpit and reset the security code on the starfighter. "Arfour?" The little droid beeped a reply. "Make sure the ship stays on lock down and keep her in one piece." The response was a dubious whistle. "Yeah, I know. Try not to worry too much. I promise I'll be back."

With that, he and Padmé took off for the upper levels.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Thanks to Dormé's distraction, most of the Separatist security forces had moved to the hangar floor. Even the small squad of battle droids that managed to make it into the private hangar bay had found their way back to the lower levels, leaving the outer corridors into the palace relatively unguarded. Anakin and Padmé cautiously made their way into the palace.

It was obvious that the architects had crafted the building with the needs of Royals in mind. The Queen and her dignitaries had easy access to space transports from their private wings of the palace. Fortunately for Anakin and Padmé, this meant they would have a fairly direct route up to the Queen's suite of rooms.

Direct, but not easy. In every hallway carbon scoring from blaster fire marred the polished finish of marble walls and pillars. Not a window was left intact, though it was impossible to tell whether that was due to blast vibrations or direct fire. Glass shards and rubble covered the floor, making walking treacherous.

Worse than the devastation around them were the scattered corpses of the Royal Guardsmen. Anakin would stop to read their ID tags and record their names on his comlink, knowing it would make confirming the dead and missing easier. A few weren't military and appeared to be palace staff. Those they couldn't identify.

Padmé grew more and more withdrawn. Though they'd found at least twenty bodies, so far there had been no sign of Dormé's husband or sister. She fervently hoped for her friend's sake that it stayed that way.

The strangest thing about making their way through the rear passages of the palace hadn't been anything they'd found. Rather it was what they _hadn't_ found that surprised them most. They had yet to cross paths with even one battle droid or droideka. Something just didn't feel right.

As they came upon the Queen's private wing they saw an area littered with at least a dozen bodies. Two were obviously female. One was dressed in the formal gray robes Jamillia preferred for her handmaidens; the other wore a far more elaborate gown and headdress. Both bore the scorch marks of laser fire shots that had taken their lives.

Padmé's breath hung in her throat as a feeling of dread seized her. Anakin walked forward first, bending down to the first of the guardsmen to read his security badge and record his identity.

Padmé could easily imagine the relentless onslaught of droid soldiers that had pushed this group to a final standoff. Solemnly she walked over to where the women lay and kneeled down. It was obvious that the first girl, the one in gray, was not Noalé. Of course, there was no way to positively identify her. She was familiar, but Padmé hated the fact that she couldn't recall her name. The second, the one in elaborate dress, had to be turned over to see her face. Fear clutching at her heart, she took a good look at the young woman's painted visage.

She gave a sigh of relief to discover that it wasn't Jamillia or Dormé's sister. That meant both Noalé and the Queen could still be safe. Saying a quick prayer that this anonymous handmaiden's sacrifice hadn't been in vain she absently wiped a tear from her cheek. It was entirely possible that the intruders believed the Queen was dead. That illusion, along with the number of dead might explain why the military presence in the palace wasn't as tight as they'd expected. The hangar bay would still have functional value for invading troops. The rest of the structure would not.

Anakin's hand on her shoulder gently reminded her there was still work to do. Time would be found later to grieve later for these who had fallen in service to Naboo.

She rose, noticing that the entrance to the Queen's wing was unsecured. She moved cautiously through the open double doors only to find the rooms untouched. In the back bedroom she checked the secret compartment. It was sealed. Entering the security code revealed no one hidden inside.

A few moments later she returned to where Anakin was finishing with his task of identifying the dead.

"Empty." Padmé breathed the word with a mixture of relief and disappointment.

"That's one down," Anakin commented, "which leaves the Throne Room, the subterranean level and the garden. Given the lax security I say we try the most obvious place next, the Throne Room."

"Good idea," Padmé agreed, "If Naboo was under attack that's the most likely place for Her Majesty. It's where I would've been…" her voice trailed off as she started down the corridor. Anakin quickly followed.

The Throne Room was empty.

No bodies and no blast marks were evident, though even here the windows were shattered. Except for the glass covering everything, the room was pristine. It seemed to mock Anakin and Padmé as they entered through a small side door. For long moments they stood looking around, searching for some clue as to what, if anything, had happened here.

Then Anakin sensed it. A trickle through the Force. Pain and fear.

"Where is that secret room?" He asked urgently.

Padmé rushed to one of the far corners, running her hands along an elaborate wood wall panel and depressing one of the inlaid design squares. Nothing happened. Deliberately she pressed again, her efforts yielding the same result.

"I don't understand. The safe room is behind that wall," she motioned to the corner "and this button is supposed to open it."

Anakin pressed the button himself. Still nothing. The urgency he'd felt before was growing stronger, the fear magnifying itself by the moment.

Without warning the panel started sliding back. Padmé drew her blaster as Anakin pulled her away from the moving wall. The door opened to reveal six red battle droids standing armed and ready. Four held their weapons leveled at the newcomers. The other two faced the back of the cubicle where a pair of handmaidens and a man in a lieutenant's uniform crouched in the dim corner.

Suddenly Anakin felt a current through the Force, a familiar dark presence he'd sensed only one other time in his life. He spun around to see a tall gray haired man enter the chamber through a door on the opposite side of the room.

"Dooku!" He spat the name.

"Ah, if it isn't Obi-Wan's young apprentice." The Count smiled coldly at Anakin before his gaze slid to Padmé. "And Senator Amidala as well. What a pleasant surprise! I set a trap for one and caught two." He strode forward, his dark cape fluttering elegantly behind him.

Anakin stood motionless, one hand resting lightly above the lightsaber at his waist. He fought the impulse to ignite the blade and rush headlong toward the man moving so confidently in his direction.

Flexing the fingers of his artificial hand, he reminded himself the cost of such a maneuver could be high. Voices whispered in his head. Palpatine telling him to be patient. Master Windu advising him to wait for targets of opportunity. Master Yoda's warning about anger and aggression.

"Come now, young Jedi, choose your path wisely." He stopped in front of the younger man. Less than a meter separated them and Anakin was hungry to close the distance. "There are always consequences to foolhardy behavior. One word from me and they die." He inclined his head back towards the prisoners.

"Don't take me for a fool, Count." Anakin's contempt radiated from him. "I know you'll kill them anyway."

"You're right." The Count nodded sympathetically. "They will die once they've outlived their usefulness, but for now they remain an effective bargaining chip."

He inclined his head towards Padmé, noting the sleek silver blaster in her hand. Somehow she'd managed to point the weapon at Dooku, though Anakin hadn't seen her do it.

"Senator," The old man's tone was patronizing, "there's no cause for behavior like that." Without warning the blaster flew from her fingers, smacking lightly into Dooku's outstretched palm. "If you would be so kind as to join my other guests." Dooku waved her towards the other captives.

Whether she realized a show of bravado would be pointless or didn't want to be the reason Anakin rushed to strike the Count, Padmé did as she was told.

"I must admit, Skywalker, you took a bit longer getting here than I anticipated."

Anakin's eyes widened, betraying his surprise.

"Yes, I was expecting you. See this party?" Dooku waved a large hand towards the shattered windows. "This is all in your honor."

A fresh wave of fury pulsed through the young padawan. How dare this man lay the blame for the destruction of Theed at his feet! With considerable effort he forced himself to breathe in and out steadily, to focus on the entire situation in front of him. "There's no way all this is about me!" He muttered through tight lips.

"You underestimate your worth." Dooku evaded. "All will become clear to you in time. Come! Take a walk with me. There's something I want to show you."

Anakin stood his ground. The last thing he wanted was a show of camaraderie from this man.

Dooku wouldn't be put off. "Let me rephrase that. If you hold any hope at all that your friends will live, you should come for a walk with me now." He motioned towards the large double doors at the front of the room.

Stalemated for the moment, Anakin reluctantly turned away from Padmé and the other hostages and followed Dooku towards the closed doors. He was mildly surprised when Dooku raised his hand and used the Force to easily push them open. Anakin preceded the old man out into the light.

Anakin's conversation with Dooku faded into the background the moment Padmé could really see the prisoners. Elation shot through her when she realized one of the handmaidens was none other than Jamillia herself! The Queen's unpainted face stayed carefully expressionless, but as her black eyes met Padmé's the relief that shone from them was obvious.

The second girl sat with an arm draped protectively around the lieutenant. From the laser burn on his chest and the droop of his shoulders it was evident he'd been shot, but even with his eyes closed Padmé could easily recognize Dormé's husband. Danel Panaka's wavy black hair and swarthy complexion were the image of his father, the captain who had served Queen Amidala well as chief of security.

Her gaze slowly traveled up from where Danel leaned against the handmaiden's shoulder and she felt a rush of excitement. Noalé! Solemn eyes flashed upwards as if in response to her silent cry. More than a hint of worry was evident in their dark depths.

Padmé schooled her features into a neutral mask. It wasn't easy. This turn of events was almost too good to be true. For the moment, at least, Dormé's loved ones _and_ the Queen were alive! They might stand a chance after all. She knelt beside Jamillia, her optimism returning by slow degrees.

Glancing up toward the guards she found herself staring into the bright red eye sensors of two security droids as well as the business end of the blaster rifles they held. The other four droid soldiers had turned away, standing silently at attention just outside the tiny room. Padmé wasn't fooled by their seeming indifference. They could snap their weapons toward a target and fire in less time than it took to blink.

Six armed Federation guards and a former Jedi Master. Yes, they would need a good plan to get out of this.

She glanced back toward her husband only to see him striding purposefully alongside Count Dooku towards the main entrance. What was Anakin doing leaving the room! For a quick second anxiousness threatened to shatter her hard-won composure. Then reason kicked in. Sure, with Anakin out of the room they were down a Jedi, but then, so was the other side because Dooku was leaving too.

No question about it, the odds were definitely better this way. Anakin could focus solely on Dooku – Padmé knew from their last encounter that he would need all his concentration to do so – while the rest of them directed whatever resources they had towards disabling the droid guards.

Still, she couldn't suppress a shiver of apprehension as she watched the two men leave. When the double doors swung inward she lost them in the blinding glare of late afternoon sun. Sunlight? Those doors opened into the main receiving hall of the palace, a room with no windows! Why was daylight now pouring into the throne room?

Shielding his eyes from the bright light as he and the Count crossed the threshold, Anakin realized what must have caused the shattered windows throughout the structure. Until now they had only seen the back half of the palace. The sole evidence of missile strike thus far had been confined to the hangar bay. Now the full extent of the morning's destructive attack became apparent.

Federation AAT's had reduced the palace's main antechamber – once a grand room filled with statues and paintings of indescribable worth – to nothing more than a pile of rubble. From his vantage point on the second floor landing he could see what remained of an ornate marble staircase. It curved gracefully down only to stop jaggedly two meters above ground level. He followed it anyway, jumping down to the main floor and climbing over broken rock to reach the main entrance to the palace. Dooku remained half a step behind, keeping pace with the younger man with a dexterity that belied his years.

The carved doors and grand archways were gone, as were the colossal monuments of Naboo philosophers that had once graced the plaza. Now there were only droid soldiers, two dozen or more, standing guard over broken pillars that rose halfway to nowhere.

At his feet, shattered stone covered the very stairs where Anakin had stood so many years ago. How different it had been then, watching the Gungans and the Naboo celebrate their victory against the Trade Federation. Now, in place of flags and streamers, columns of smoke twisted skyward throughout the city, mute witness to burning homes and places of business. Broken bodies, both citizen and soldier, lay in the streets while the waning sun cast a pale orange glow over the ruin of it all.

Anakin struggled to control the emotions writhing inside him. He could feel fury hammering inside his head like a drum. The urge to act was almost overwhelming. Dooku was there, within easy reach of his blade. It would be so easy to just call his saber into his hand and –

Reaching desperately into the Force for strength, he managed to find iron control to bind the anger, but he refused to let it die completely. There was a certain potency to be found in it if one knew where to look. He let it simmer inside him.

"You're going to pay for this." Anakin's voice was calm, giving no hint of the icy rage that was even now quietly filling his soul.

"No, Skywalker, the price for this has already been paid through the ages on the backs of independent systems. Countless generations ruined by slavery, disease, despair and poverty while the Republic tended their own interests closer to home. You know the truth of that for yourself; you hardly need me to point it out."

The Count's disparaging tone and the stark reminder of his own slave heritage had Anakin cringing inwardly. How many times had he silently blamed the Republic because slavery still existed on Outer-Rim worlds like Tatooine? How often had he promised himself that once he became a Jedi he would right those wrongs? In the meantime he could only watch, helpless, as chaos ran rampant through the galaxy.

The Jedi, ever dwindling in number, struggled to keep the peace by dealing with one small matter at a time. They would no more than rush in to fix one problem before a dozen more would crop up. Problems, Anakin thought, that began and ended with this man and his legions.

"Injustice is no excuse for arbitrary killing, Dooku!" His felt his control slipping a little and grabbed tightly at it, clenching his fists at his sides.

"Perhaps not," the older man conceded, "but the back of the Republic must be broken before anything will change. Corrupt senators won't sit up and take notice until their own worlds fall."

"And this?" Anakin waved toward the courtyard. "How does the Confederacy of Independent Systems justify this? Naboo has always been a peaceful world with no off-world armies or galactic agendas. Her Senator is not corrupt!"

"Amidala gives her unwavering support to the Republic. That loyalty alone makes her an enemy of the Confederacy." Dooku's lip curled in a semblance of amusement. "Interesting, how staunchly you defend her, almost as if you had a more personal interest here. Perhaps my master is right. Your heart does not truly belong to the Jedi."

It was a taunt Anakin refused to acknowledge. "My heart is my business," he denied hotly, only then stopping to register the full import of the Count's words. "Your master? I thought you were done with the Jedi and all they represent."

This time Dooku did smile, a chilling grimace that didn't reach his eyes. "Ah, a light dawns!" The sarcasm grated like sandpaper over Anakin's already taut nerves. "Reach out with your feelings boy. So much eludes you that should be obvious."

Anakin's eyes closed as he tapped into the Force, pushing his awareness outward. A clouded image of the Count stood before him, shrouded in darkness, pulsing with sinister energy. How had he not seen it! It was the same dark power as the warrior in the melting pit. The one who killed Qui-Gon!

"Sith!" His eyes snapped open.

One of Dooku's eyebrows lifted in grudging respect. "Very perceptive."

Anakin felt a brief euphoria at finally naming his enemy, even as dismay crowded in behind it. He'd fought Dooku before. How had he failed to recognize the true origin of the darkness in him?

As if sensing Anakin's conflict, Dooku turned to face him. "Don't be too hard on yourself, padawan. You are still very young. Seeing through my defenses would've been a formidable task even for a Jedi Master." The Count folded his arms thoughtfully. "Though you are quite gifted, you've been far too preoccupied of late to notice what's been right under your nose."

Suddenly everything swam into focus. It all made sense. The lack of obvious danger signs, his failure to sense the deaths of so many, an attack on Naboo just when he happened to be here, even the relatively unguarded state of the palace halls. Dooku had been shielding the darkness from him all along.

"You've been testing me." Anakin muttered with certainty, turning to face the Count. "Why?"

"I'm sure you know that Obi-Wan's master was my padawan learner. Qui-Gon Jinn was an apt pupil, even if he did possess a certain annoying sentimentality. Your Master wasn't cursed with that particular failing." Dooku took a step, then another, circling Anakin while he spoke. "On the contrary, for all his fumbling beginnings, Kenobi became an ideal Jedi. What a pity if you should choose to share his fate."

"It has always been my destiny to become a Jedi." Anakin spoke softly, with conviction.

"Is that what your heart tells you?" The older man stopped his pacing to stand directly in front of the padawan. "I don't think so. You find their way of life as stifling as I once did." Black eyes met blue. "They offer you the cruelest kind of confinement: a life of mediocrity, where you serve as one small voice among many, unable to affect any kind of lasting change on the universe around you."

Anakin found that point difficult to argue. There was precious little freedom in the Jedi way of life. He'd already broken the rules of the Order because of it. His heart pounded in his chest. He did _not_ want to agree with Dooku, but so much of what the man said were things he had already thought and felt.

"They will never let you reach your full potential. Already, the Jedi fear the scope of your power." Dooku's gaze was hot, burning into his soul with a violent truth Anakin fought not to believe. "No, Anakin, your destiny does not lie with them."

Though he'd often suspected it himself, Anakin pushed the possibility aside. Hearing the words in the sardonic voice of his opponent gave them a blessedly hollow ring. His destiny _must_ lie with the Jedi! A lifetime of dreams depended on it! He'd already sacrificed so much to get to this point.

The faces of his Jedi teachers swirled hazily through his mind. He could hear their warnings against anger and fear, could feel their encouragement and support. How could he walk away from Qui-Gon's conviction that he, as the Chosen One, still had some pivotal role to play in all this? How could he betray his own master's trust, or the faith in him that his mother never lost, even upon her death? And then there was Padmé, with her vision of a galaxy made whole again. He had only to think on these things and his destiny was clear.

"You're wrong, Dooku. I _will_ become a Jedi." His voice was firm, unwavering.

For the smallest fraction of a second – so fast Anakin thought he might have imagined it – Dooku's mask of superiority slipped. Then, quicker than a breath, his craggy features returned to their previous air of absolute confidence.

"Look around you Skywalker." The Sith Lord gestured dramatically towards the horizon. "Naboo is in ruin. The Queen is dead, her military scattered to the winds. So much has been lost. This is what the Republic has to offer you!"

Anakin stared out at the devastation, feeling resolve replace the emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Everywhere he looked glittering fragments of marble reflected the blazing orange of the setting sun. Even the clouds themselves had turned blood red.

His patience was fast coming to an end. Glancing around the palazzo, he noted the twenty or so droid soldiers standing in rows at the base of the stairs. He would need to clear them first, before dealing with Dooku and his lightsaber. The soldiers would be easy. The hard part would be staying between the Sith Lord and the path back to Padmé. He reached for the Force, feeling a welcome surge of strength and a hint…just a hint…of something else.

"Where are your fellow Jedi now? Your loyal comrades-in-arms?" Dooku sneered. There was an almost desperate quality to the Count's voice, as if he realized his audience was no longer listening. "When you called them, did they rally to your cause?" He shook his head in mock woe. "No. I think not. Look around you at the world the Republic deems less worthy than a manufactured army. You stand alone here, Anakin. I'm afraid where the Jedi are concerned you always will."

"That's where you're wrong Dooku." Another voice came from the far right. "My padawan does not stand alone."

Anakin's breath left him in a rush as he heard the familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber igniting. Evidently Count Dooku wasn't the only one here with a knack for blocking his presence in the Force.

Though Dooku's expression didn't change, anger and frustration poured from him as Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out from behind what remained of a marble pillar.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It took Padmé only a few moments to piece together the meaning of so much outside light. The palace's grand entryway, along with all of its symbols of Naboo's culture and history, was gone. The loss was enough to make her feel physically ill, but the realization also filled her with a galvanizing sense of urgency. They had to find a way out of here _now_ before even more was lost! She took a deep breath and tried to take stock of their situation analytically. The first and most deadly obstacle in their path was the unit of six droid guards.

What they needed was a distraction. Her eyes passed quickly around the room finding nothing that might be of use. Not surprising. Even under the best of circumstances this room was austere. The Queen's desk and throne sat on a small dais in front of the now-shattered windows. She knew there would be a blaster hidden in the arm of that chair, but reaching it without being shot would be almost impossible. The audience chairs, arranged in theater style semicircle around the throne, were lovely, but their thin wood and cloth construction wouldn't serve as a shield to flying blaster bolts.

She considered the control panel built into the inner wall of the safe room. It was an old style lever switch for the door: up to open and down to close. While it opened fairly slowly, it was designed to seal in the blink of an eye. If only they could throw that switch. The blast-shielded door would nullify the four droids standing just outside.

Glancing across to Noalé, then to Jamillia, she met each woman's gaze. She nodded almost imperceptibly toward the wall switch, then to Noalé. The girl's eyes snapped to focus on the panel and she inclined her head a fraction. Good! She understood that throwing the switch was her job.

Slowly and methodically the young handmaiden adjusted Danel so he was leaning on the wall and not on her shoulder. It would appear she was seeking a more comfortable position when in reality she was freeing herself to move on a moment's notice.

Padmé looked back at Jamillia. The Queen's dark gaze flickered to the guard closest to her. Clearly she intended to take on that particular droid. A part of Padmé wanted to insist that she stand down, but there was no way to keep Jamillia from acting at this point. Padmé knew from personal experience such warnings would go unheeded anyway. She was forced to admit she'd been just such a Queen herself. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that Naboo tended to elect strong, willful monarchs. Thankfully the planetary government made sure its rulers were well trained in order to compensate for such brave, reckless tendencies.

Just as Padmé was preparing to give the signal to move she heard one of the side doors to the Throne Room slide open. She leaned forward a little, but couldn't see past her droid guards. The other four droids standing at attention turned to face the sound. There! That was the distraction she'd been looking for and there wouldn't be a better time! She nodded firmly to the other two women before launching herself at the guard closest to her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Noalé and Jamillia leap at the same time. She could feel the droids hesitate as they registered the three moving targets. Instantly the air around her was alive with multiple rounds of blaster fire. A split second later her body impacted the droid's lower torso. Balance had always been a weak point of battle droid construction and the unit teetered before crashing to the ground. Unable to stop her forward momentum, Padmé ended up on the floor alongside it. In that same instant the door to the small room slammed shut. Noalé had managed to trip the switch!

Gritting her teeth, Padmé fought the waves of blinding pain radiating from her shoulder. The droid's gears whirred noisily as it fought to regain its equilibrium on the slick floor. She rolled towards it, grabbing for the blast rifle and kicking its mechanical arm with her booted foot. The confused droid quickly lost its purchase on the weapon and the butt of the gun snapped into her waiting hand. She pulled it back into firing position and aimed at the chest unit of the soldier, squeezing off two quick shots. Plasma bolts sizzled into the center of the metal body compartment and traces of energy skipped over the droid's durasteel surface just before its limbs dropped lifelessly to the floor.

Rolling to her knees, Padmé was just in time to see Noalé pull at the laser rifle held by the other droid soldier. That one was also prone on the ground and Jamillia strained from a position half underneath it. She had an arm looped around the metal limb holding the blaster and appeared to be using the weight of her body to keep it immobile. Not the prettiest method of disabling that Padmé had ever seen, but she had to admit it was effective. The droid couldn't target anything.

Padmé aimed her own blaster at the struggling machine, then thought better of it and dropped the muzzle of her weapon. There wouldn't be a clear shot. Best to let the two women finish what they started. From what she could see they appeared to have things well in hand.

As she guessed, it didn't take long. Once Noalé had possession of the blaster rifle she immediately backed into the closest corner to regroup. Seeing that the droid was no longer armed, Jamillia pushed the heavy metal body away from her as hard as she could. Its weight was considerable and the effort didn't yield much, but Padmé didn't miss a beat. She took the opportunity to deliver a deadly accurate shot to the exposed chest cavity. The droid jerked spasmodically a couple of times before lying still.

In the relative safety of their hiding place the three women could hear blaster fire echoing through the adjoining throne room. Padmé said a quick prayer for Anakin's safety, hoping that the door she'd heard moments before hadn't heralded the arrival of more battle droids, or worse, droidekas.

She noticed Jamillia glancing around and knew she was looking for an extra weapon.

"Your Majesty, you might have gotten away with that maneuver a second ago, but don't think I'm going to stand by and let you risk your life again! Remember, if anything happens to you I'm stuck with your job." She smiled slightly to take the sting out of her words. There were times when a Queen's penchant for heroism just had to be squelched.

Jamillia gave the long-suffering sigh of a monarch who recognized, but didn't want to acknowledge, the validity of a warning.

"Such impudence from a Senator!" She flashed Padmé an answering grin. "I'll listen to you this time, but it has more to do with the shortage of weapons than my sense of duty, or" she added under her breath "your reluctance to take up the royal mantle again."

The idea of Amidala returning to the throne was a standing joke between the two of them. In a galaxy where most politicians and royals held tightly to power Padmé had been something of an anomaly. She'd made it abundantly clear to her successor that she was more than happy to relinquish her title and Crown. She had instantly become one of Jamillia's most trusted allies and confidantes.

The Queen, knowing the futility of arguing, did the only thing she could think of to help – she found a place to stay out of the way. Pulling Danel's limp body back into the least accessible corner of the room she tucked him behind her own slim form as best she could. Padmé's heart swelled at the gesture. She'd had occasion to wish she could repay a loyal guard's sacrifice and understood Jamillia's desire to shield Danel from further harm.

Padmé rose to her feet, cradling her arm gingerly. She didn't think anything was broken, but her bruises were going to be colorful. Noalé fell in beside her and together they rushed to the door. Listening carefully, Padmé could hear that blaster fire on the other side had become intermittent. She nodded once and Noalé pushed the lever up. Slowly the wall edged its way open again.

Both women breathed a sigh of relief at the sight that met their eyes. One droid soldier lay on the floor, smoke rising from a black hole in the side of its head. The other three were advancing slowly towards a group of standing columns beside the door in the far corner. Every few seconds a rapid burst of green plasma energy would flash out from behind the pillars in the general direction of the droids.

Padmé wasted no time. There was an ally in the room and she would show her appreciation in the only way she knew how – by drawing a bead on the nearest droid soldier with her own weapon. Her aim was true as ever and the closest target dropped instantly as an energy bolt seared through its cranial cavity.

Noalé wasn't as lucky with her volley of fire. Though one of her shots hit the second droid, it glanced and only succeeded in scorching the unit's outer covering. It was enough, though, to cause the two remaining droids to stop and turn in one fluid motion in order to target the newest threat. Senator and handmaiden dropped back behind the wall as another round of laser fire came from behind the distant columns.

Padmé was just preparing to resume her own attack when a sudden explosion rocked the room. They felt a wave of heat as bits of metal and rock blasted through the open doorway into the small cubicle. Noalé abandoned her position at the door, swiftly moving to shield the Queen's body with her own.

* * *

At the ignition of Obi-Wan's saber blade every droid soldier at the bottom of the stairs turned, blasters ready, to face the three men.

Anakin silently thanked the Trade Federation for the limited intelligence of their battle droids. Droidekas responded to lightsabers instantly with torrents of offensive fire. These lesser droids clearly needed a command to act – one they hadn't yet been given.

"Master Kenobi." The Count inclined his head politely. "Come to rescue your apprentice?"

"My apprentice doesn't need rescuing, Dooku." The Jedi replied coolly. "My role is merely advisory. I'm here to tell him that Republic troops are even now cleaning up the remnants of Federation soldiers you sent to the Gungan cities."

Anakin's eyes met those of his master. The Jedi were here? On Naboo? With reinforcements? Evidently Obi-Wan could sense his confusion, if not the actual questions, and sent back a wave of reassurance through the Force. Aloud he said, "I thought that might ease his mind a bit."

Anakin couldn't stop the smile that curled his lip. It _did_ help to know. The Council had sent fortifying troops to Naboo because he had said they were needed. And Obi-Wan had come as well! Despite their differences, his Master had come to his aid. Suddenly he felt not so alone, almost as if he really _was_ part of a greater whole.

Dooku seemed to take the news in stride. He raised an eyebrow, looking sidelong at Kenobi. "I find it surprising that the Jedi would waste resources here when other worlds are suffering far worse fates."

"Oh, I assure you we have the other situations well in hand." Obi-Wan radiated haughty confidence. "Much as this one has been brought under control."

"But to what end?" Dooku's mask of insolence slipped momentarily and his impatience became apparent. "The Confederacy will continue to find ways to prove its supremacy over the Republic. Other worlds will fall before being forced to admit that the Jedi and their army can no longer protect them." He turned to face Obi-Wan, his deep voice carrying an air of unmistakable finality. "Both the Republic and the Jedi Order are corrupt and unsalvageable. Qui-Gon suspected it; you refuse to admit it and your Padawan has known it for quite some time. I think that he - " Dooku broke off suddenly as an explosion was heard from inside the palace.

Anakin spun towards the hall in surprise. Color had drained from his face and he whispered one word as if it were a fervent prayer, "Padmé!"

Dooku stepped between Anakin and the doorway, waving his hand towards the squadron of battle droids. "Kill the Jedi!" He shouted. "Kill them now!" The droids opened fire as Dooku ducked back towards the Throne Room.

Obi-Wan managed to avert the barrage with his lightsaber, reflecting shots back into the midst of the droid regiment. Anakin was delayed only for the seconds it took to ignite his weapon, narrowly managing to avoid being hit by executing a perfect flip into the air. He landed solidly on his feet next to his Master, azure blade flashing in tandem to Obi-Wan's movements. They instantly dropped half the number of droids with deflected fire before walking in unison to the edge of the stairs and Force-pushing the remaining units to the ground. Anakin seized the advantage and wasted no time, using the power of the Force to pull one of the fractured concrete pillar bases down on them before they could rise.

Seconds later both Jedi had followed Dooku back into the building. They found the Count on what remained of the grand staircase, using the Force to move huge chunks of rock that blocked the entryway to the Throne Room. Apparently the blast they'd heard had brought down even more of the crumbling marble ceiling. Dooku's efforts had almost cleared the doorway. Just one more large rock to go. Drawing on the Force, master and padawan vaulted up towards the second floor.

* * *

Padmé leaned around the edge of the door, stunned to see a small crater in the marble floor where the droid soldiers had been standing only moments before. Acrid black smoke filled the chamber, creating a dark haze that cleared slowly as it was sucked out the open windows.

The room was deathly quiet for a moment before an unmistakably feminine voice tinged with disappointment call out. "So, is that it?"

Padmé knew that voice. She strained to see through the dissipating fog. It wasn't easy. There was no powered lighting in the room and the sky outside was red with approaching dusk. Her eyes lit on the pillar where laser fire had been originating only moments before. Just then, a dark head leaned out from behind the column. The girl's face was familiar, almost like looking in a mirror.

"Sabé!" Padmé moved warily out of the safe room while her former handmaiden abandoned all pretense of caution and ran over to her. They met in the warm embrace of long-parted friends.

"Padmé, I've missed you!" Sabé smiled, drawing back to study her friend.

"How did you -?" Padmé started.

"Dormé." Sabé's one word explanation quickly pre-empted her question. "She shot me a coded message this morning saying you were forcing her to leave Naboo. She told me what you were planning and asked if I might fill in for her. How could I refuse?" Sabé's honey brown eyes sparkled. "It took me half the day just to get here. Of course, if I'd realized you would have things so well in hand I might've saved myself the trip. One thermal detonator seemed a bit of overkill for two battle droids, but I was losing patience."

"Believe me, you were more help than you know!" Padmé motioned towards the back of the safe room where Jamillia was rising to her feet and Noalé was taking closer inventory of Danel's wound.

Sabé's eyes widened as she recognized the Queen of Naboo. "Your Majesty!" She quickly dropped to one knee, lowering her head in a gesture of respect before raising her eyes to Jamillia's. "All the world has been fearing the worst!"

The monarch's piercing black eyes glinted with humor and her generous lips curved wryly. "As you can see, reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated. Rise, Sabé. I think you've more than earned a respite from court formalities."

Sabé stood, excitement bubbling from her at finding her Queen alive and well. "This will mean so much to the people!"

"We don't dare tell anyone yet." Padmé muttered, checking the power setting on her blaster rifle. "We need to get Her Majesty to safety first."

"Agreed." Sabé nodded. "What about the lieutenant?"

Noalé piped up from her position on the floor. "He seems to be stable. The blaster wound is superficial, but he took a good knock on the head when he was shot. He hasn't been conscious since."

"We _will_ carry him out." It was the Queen again, her tone brooking no argument. "I don't care about delays or additional risk. The shot he took was meant for me." Jamillia knelt and helped Noalé raise the young soldier to his feet. They each ducked under an arm and tried to divide his considerable weight between them. Danel Panaka had his father's stature and neither of them were small men.

Sabé exchanged a glance with Padmé. It would indeed be slow going with two women trying to carry an injured man. "What about the Jedi, Skywalker?" Sabé asked. "Dormé told me he was with you."

"Anakin is dealing with the biggest threat to our safety." Padmé's expression was neutral but her eyes spoke volumes. "Count Dooku is here."

"The Jedi idealist? The man organizing the Separatists?" Sabé seemed a little incredulous, as if she couldn't fathom why a leader of such importance would be here leading a small-scale attack.

"Actually, he's a _forme_r Jedi, not that it makes much difference. If Anakin's last run-in with him is any indication, he's just as lethal outside the Jedi Order as in. He would definitely rather kill us" Padmé nodded to indicate Jamillia in particular "than look at us."

"Well, then," Sabé intoned in her best Amidala of Naboo voice, "we shall avoid him at all costs."

Just then the door to the entryway was flung open and the topic of their conversation strode grandly into the room.

* * *

Count Dooku paused as he entered the hall, as if surprised to find things weren't as he'd left them. His hesitation lasted only a moment before he resumed his long strides toward the group gathered in the back corner.

Padmé saw him come through the doorway and unceremoniously pushed Jamillia, Noalé and the wounded Danel back into the safe room.

"Shut the door!" she shouted as she raised her rifle to her shoulder and fired several shots in quick succession.

Though at least a dozen strides away Dooku stopped, his hand extended, palm forward. Laser bolts impacted on his glove with a sizzle before dissipating in a harmless shower of white sparks.

Padmé hesitated, more than a little awed by the display of power she'd just witnessed. Sabé ran to her side as the door to the safe chamber slid shut behind them. They exchanged a look, each reading the fear in the other's face as they shared the realization that their powerful energy weapons were useless. Both turned to run for the nearest cover, the pillars along the wall.

"Oh no, Amidala. I have other plans for you!" The Count's voice maintained its façade of politeness, but there was anger in it too, simmering just beneath the surface.

Padmé heard him shout and felt her feet leave the ground as she was thrown towards the dais by a powerful unseen force. She landed hard at the base of the Queen's desk, anguish exploding through her body. An instant later Sabé slammed into her and the world went black.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author notes: Thanks everyone, for reading and for the replies! Although this story is already finished I love getting feedback and learning more about what parts you liked best._

_On the specific questions:_

_I wouldn't say the end is right around the corner, exactly. You've got 4 more chapters after this one. :) _

_Have we seen the last of Dormé? Well, would you be too disappointed if I said yes?_

_Is there a completed version archived anywhere? No, not in this final form. There is a rough version posted in its entirety at fanfiction forum, but it is an old thread and probably well buried. My username is the same there, though, and there is a link to the fic in my profile._

_About Canon continuity - when I wrote this story originally, the idea was to provide a canon-true bridge between Ep II & Ep III. Now that Ep III is out, I hopeNR still works, but I can't make any promises because I honestly haven't been considering Ep III in the re-editing process.I think if I fell into that well of trying to write backwards from Ep III, I'd never escape it. As it is I already wish I'd includedArtoo :) _

**Chapter 8**

Anakin ran into the room barely a minute behind his nemesis, Obi-Wan close on his heels. He slid to a stop just in time to see Dooku send his wife hurtling into the throne platform. A second girl quickly followed the same arc. Neither moved.

He felt a surge of fury as Dooku started towards the helpless women. With great effort he managed to rein it in, knowing he couldn't afford to lose control this time, not with Padmé's life and Dooku's freedom both at stake. Instinctively he stretched out his hand, drew on the Force and pulled at the Sith Lord with all his might.

The Count staggered backwards but remained on his feet, turning to face Anakin and Obi-Wan. He didn't seem to realize that Anakin had been the one to jerk him to a dead stop.

"Your presence here is proving troublesome, Kenobi." Dooku intoned. His irritation was evident as he bit off each word. "Please join the Senator in taking a seat!" He extended his arm and blue lightning crackled from his fingertips, shooting across the room at Obi-Wan.

Startled by the suddenness of the attack, Kenobi didn't have time to re-ignite his lightsaber before waves of electricity coursed through his body. He stumbled backward under the fiery onslaught.

Anakin well remembered the mind-numbing agony that accompanied those Force-lightning bolts. It was a testament to his master's fortitude that he hadn't dropped instantly from the initial blast. Through their bond he could feel Obi-Wan weakening, reeling under the vicious assault.

Drawing on his own mental strength, Anakin did his best to crawl into Obi-Wan's mind to shore up his ebbing resistance. He could feel the tingling dark electricity almost as if it raced through his own body. Suddenly he sensed his master reaching back to him through their Force bond. His mind clawed at Anakin's, seeking any life preserver that might keep him from drowning in the evil power coursing through him. With surprise, Anakin felt Obi-Wan begin to rally as he slowly gathered strength to repel the Sith Lord's attack.

Dooku must have sensed their connection because he immediately stepped forward and, with a wave of his hand, sent a mighty Force push towards Kenobi. The unexpected strength of it pitched the already overwhelmed Jedi back into the wall where he lay motionless.

With effort Anakin managed to maintain their mental bond. Obi-Wan was still conscious, but stunned. It would be a while before his tortured muscles could recover to the point that he could move.

Reluctantly Anakin severed their bond. There was nothing they could do to help each other now. Obi-Wan would need what strength he had to fight off the lingering effects of the lightning and Anakin knew his focus had to be solely on Dooku if they were all going to survive.

He glanced back to the Count only to see the Dark Lord striding towards Padmé's still form. It had worked once, so he tried again, using the Force to pull the man back with all the strength he could muster.

Once again Dooku was brought up short. He turned to face Anakin, surprise on his noble face.

"Well padawan, it seems you've learned a bit since last we met." He stepped slowly towards Anakin. "Not that it matters. My skills are still far superior to yours."

"We'll see who is the more powerful, old man!" Anakin's scorn was obvious as his stance became predatory. His crystal-blue eyes blazed with cold fire, never wavering from the piercing gaze of his enemy.

"Yes, my boy." Dooku smiled broadly. "Hold tightly to your anger! It will give you more power than you can possibly imagine." His voice lowered to a compelling hiss. "You hate me, don't you? For Geonosis?"

Anakin remained silent, staring at Dooku from under dark brows, his mouth set in an grim, unyielding line. It would have been pointless to deny what was obvious and true.

"You need not answer." Dooku jeered. "It flows from you in waves even a youngling couldn't miss." His tone turned conversational, almost conspiratorial. "It truly is a shame you cling to your hypocrisy. It forces us to face each other as adversaries." The Count sighed with mock regret. "As allies we would be invincible."

"With the right teaching, Skywalker, you could surpass even your own expectations." Dooku stopped with several meters between them. "You can choose not to listen, but if you do you will remain helpless against attacks such as this!" His hand shot out from under his cloak, electricity pulsing once again from his fingertips.

Anakin stretched his palm towards Dooku, using every ounce of his will to pull that malevolent energy to one focal point. The lightning drew towards his hand as if magnetized, coiling there in a hot bright blue ball. Master Yoda had been reluctant to teach him this at first, but had ultimately given in to his endless requests. Still, even with constant practice, he had yet to master casting the lighting back at his opponent. He threw the swirling mass of energy aside and both men recoiled as it exploded against the rock wall in a shower of dust and debris.

Anakin felt the stunned surprise of both other Force users in the room. Obi-Wan's was tinged with pride and a hint of awe. Dooku's held only an anger that matched his own. He allowed the barest hint of amusement to curl his lip. The expression was not lost on his opponent.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Padmé move. The knowledge strengthened him even as he pushed his awareness of her to a dark corner of his mind. Their connection had to remain locked safely away where Dooku couldn't exploit it.

"Surprised?" He asked, more to distract Dooku from Padmé than to antagonize him. "I didn't feel helpless."

The Count once again began stepping towards him, his anger quickly managed and masked. "Indeed you are powerful, young apprentice. My former master doesn't often pass on that particular trick. Master Yoda must feel you have great promise if he is willing to impart such ancient secrets."

_Probably more annoying than promising_, Anakin thought to himself, refusing to allow Dooku to lead him into comfortable dialogue. He was familiar with the former Jedi's powers of persuasion. The less talking he allowed the old man to do, the better. It was time to let their lightsabers speak for them.

Anakin drew his weapon, holding it lightly in one hand as he ignited it. The saber hummed to life as soft blue light filled the room. Deliberately he refrained from adopting any particular stance, preferring instead to let Dooku set the style of the duel.

The Count closed the distance between them, bringing himself into the range of Anakin's saber before slowly and deliberately lighting his own. The blade extended slowly, flickering with an ominous scarlet hue.

"If your skills with a lightsaber have grown along with your knowledge of the Force, this should prove most interesting."

"I was just thinking the same thing." Anakin shot back, determined that this time Dooku would not undermine his confidence.

The older man's authoritarian air of indifference was back in place, but Anakin recognized the mask for what it was even as he heard him ask, "Are you sure you wouldn't like an extra blade?"

The needling remark about their previous engagement pricked a nerve, forcing Anakin to quell an almost overpowering urge to strike the first blow. "No." He forced the word out from behind clenched teeth. "I can kill you with one sword just as easily as two."

Dooku raised an eyebrow, but inclined his head courteously.

Slowly they circled each other, their crimson and azure light blades combining to cast an eerie purple glow over the room.

* * *

From his vantage point near the door Obi-Wan listened intently, watching the exchange between his apprentice and the Count of Serenno.

It was beyond his comprehension that he'd overlooked Dooku's ability to pervert the Force into lightning. He cursed the stupidity of not being ready for such an attack. The past year of field commanding had sharpened his aim and his tactical skills but he grudgingly admitted it _had_ dulled his Jedi perception.

The hot agony of electrocution had faded to a buzzing numbness in his muscles. Even now the feeling was gradually returning to his limbs, bringing with it a prickly discomfort. He winced as he tentatively tried to move his legs.

One thing Obi-Wan knew for certain, Anakin's antipathy for the man he now faced was as boundless as Dooku's was for the Jedi. In fact, it had come as no surprise when Dooku hadn't denied a connection to the Sith.

The possibility of such a tie was one he and Master Yoda had discussed after Geonosis. While the Count's corruption there had been obvious, they had both been hesitant to label him without confirmation. There were no ties between Dooku and the mysterious Sith warrior killed all those years ago here on Naboo, especially given that Dooku had still been among the Jedi at that time.

So much about that day was still unclear in Obi-Wan's mind but one critical point was undeniable. Facing down Qui-Gon's killer moments after his death had been as close as Obi-Wan had ever come to succumbing to the dark side of the Force. That sinister pull, the feeling of unbelievable power it granted was something he would never forget. He feared for his apprentice now. If Dooku truly was a Sith, then Anakin would soon feel that same conflict – would be forced to face down the shadows within himself.

He knew a moment of fear for his apprentice, for the darkness he'd sometimes sensed in Anakin. The anger, the rage and bitterness after his mother's death had been so much with him this past year and a half. If Dooku was perceptive he could use those feelings to his advantage, to draw Anakin away from the light. It was a choice all padawans ultimately faced, a trial by fire.

So far Anakin was in control of his darker feelings, but Obi-Wan could sense his constant struggle for equilibrium. The fury in his heart warred with the goodness, waiting for a chance to leap to the forefront and take command.

He watched as Jedi Padawan and Sith Lord began to circle each other, lightsabers at the ready.

Dooku took the first swing, a neat underhanded sweep of his blade that Anakin parried easily. More strikes were traded in efficient flashes of red and blue. Energy blades hummed through the air, blazing wildly as they connected.

Something about the way the Count was moving tugged at Obi-Wan's memory. It seemed almost contrived, as if he was testing Anakin, using complicated footwork drills and classic attack patterns.

Dooku had once given saber instruction to padawan learners at the Temple. Obi-Wan had been only fourteen at the time, but he remembered those lessons. Qui-Gon's former master was a ruthless seeker of perfection. No matter how good a student was, Dooku would inevitably escalate his attack and cause them to miss a parry, at which point he would deliver a scathing criticism. He'd felt the lash of those corrections many a time. Watching his own protégé now, he felt a rush of pride as Anakin answered each slash and thrust flawlessly, countering each classic maneuver with its textbook response.

Had circumstances been different, had the stakes been less high, Obi-Wan might even have been amused. Dooku was obviously holding back, but Anakin was too. In fact, his apprentice seemed content for the moment to play the older man's game. Obi-Wan recognized the tactic. He'd taught it to Anakin himself: take any opportunity to measure your adversary, to become familiar with his style, his speed, his reach, and the angle of his attack.

It was a smart choice, given Dooku's apparent disinclination to fully engage in the battle, but it wouldn't work for long. For one thing, it required infinite patience – not a trait Anakin possessed in abundance.

Even so, Dooku would find he was facing a far more powerful foe than the overeager boy he'd met on Geonosis. Anakin had made certain of it in the interim, honing his skills with a single-minded ferocity that had impressed the members of the Council even as it gave them cause for concern. The transformation he'd undergone had been nothing short of amazing and the proof of it was here, now, before Obi-Wan's eyes.

At this stage the duel was almost beautiful in its simplicity – a dance of strike and counterstrike. The two seemed effortlessly matched with Anakin more than holding his own. Still, Obi-Wan had seen this before. He knew the balance could shift. The intensity could escalate in an instant.

He glanced sidelong at the royal dais. Senator Amidala and the other girl were awake now, edging slowly towards the back corner. Anakin and Dooku were absorbed in their conflict. Likely they wouldn't notice if he made his way over there as well. He could see to it that the Senator and her companion made it to safety. It would give his limbs a chance to fully recover in the event that Anakin needed assistance.

Shaking off the lingering mental and physical sluggishness, he started working his way around the perimeter of the room.

* * *

Anakin Skywalker was bored.

Dooku's style thus far had been amazingly predictable, nothing like the fight he'd replayed in his head countless times since Geonosis. This was definitely not the duel he imagined would take place when they met again. He'd had training sessions more challenging than this.

Determined to use the lull to his advantage he maintained a solid defense, meticulously noting the distance Dooku maintained and watching the man's footwork for any hint of repeating patterns.

For reasons known only to himself, the Count appeared to be stringing him along. He would vary his style from time to time, but his offense was one any mid-level padawan could counter.

Impatience swelled in Anakin. Dooku already knew he was no youngling to be toyed with. It was time to remind him of that fact.

He suddenly reversed direction, forcing Dooku to respond in kind, and then took the initiative with a combination of solid blows - up to Dooku's face, in to his abdomen, down to his leg. Dooku responded with ease, blocking the shots cleanly before spinning aside.

Anakin noted the older man's precision and timing with admiration. He might despise the former Jedi, but his grace and skill were undeniable and worthy of appreciation.

He fought the urge to mirror Dooku's stance. Normally he wouldn't miss the chance to mimic his opponent's own style. It was a tactic that worked well on the practice floor, but it wasn't likely to work here today. His underestimation of Dooku on that score had been his failing during their last encounter.

Anakin pressed again with a lethal combination. Dooku parried and returned with several well-placed strikes of his own. Anakin stepped back, deliberately overextending to allow his enemy to regain the upper hand.

Dooku's eyes lit with pleasure at Anakin's retreat. The Sith Lord stepped in to capitalize with strikes that were ever faster. Time after time their blades met, glowing brighter as they collided, each instance sending a new shower of sparks into the air.

This time, Anakin thought, he wouldn't try to beat the Count at his own game. Instead, he would introduce Dooku to a few of his own rules. The archaic styles had weaknesses and limitations, all of which Master Windu had shown him time and again. The indomitable Jedi Master was fond of saying that the best defense was a solid offense, especially against the lighter, quicker styles.

Without warning Anakin pressed forward, doubling his speed as he sought to re-establish dominance. His blows came in quick succession, faster and faster. With decisive slashes he cut off the Count's swift thrusts, delivering his own attack with astonishing effectiveness.

Dooku retreated under the onslaught, seeking to regroup. He reached for and missed a low block. When Anakin's blue blade singed his cloth-covered thigh the Sith Lord howled in pain and fury. He lashed out with renewed intensity, his movements barely hindered by the burn on his leg.

Anakin only smiled and met the challenge eagerly.

* * *

Upon regaining consciousness Padmé lay motionless on the dais. Her eyes were helplessly locked on the two warriors now engaged in beautiful and deadly combat. One wrong step, one failed deflection and her husband would die. The realization stunned her into immobility. She could do little more than draw shallow breaths in a desperate attempt to ease the growing tightness in her chest.

A rough shake from Sabé and the accompanying stab of pain from shoulder to fingertips served as a brutal reminder that there was more work to do.

"Padmé!" Her friend whispered urgently, "we've got to get Her Majesty to safety!"

Only the knowledge that Naboo's future depended on her ability to act gave her the strength to look away. She rose from the floor, struggling with the urge to let her gaze slip back to the duel. Dooku was a vicious and powerful enemy and she had no doubt that Anakin fought for his life. The knowledge that he could be lost to her in an instant settled coldly in the pit of her stomach.

She forced herself to stay focused and scanned the room for the laser rifle she'd been holding before Dooku sent her flying. The gathering gloom and shifting shadows made the task almost impossible, but she finally found it lying close to the corner alcove.

Sabé joined her after locating her own weapon and the two of them hovered indecisively near the door to the secret room. They needed to be sure they could get the Queen to safety before reopening the chamber. So far, the only card in their favor was the fact that Dooku hadn't appeared to recognize Queen Jamillia among his captives.

Just then a gruff baritone spoke from behind them. "Senator Amidala!"

Both women turned to see Obi-Wan Kenobi coming towards them out of the darkness.

"Master Kenobi!" Padmé returned the Jedi's greeting, giving him a quick but exuberant hug. "You _did_ come!"

The affectionate breach of protocol obviously made Obi-Wan uncomfortable, but he returned her embrace nonetheless, using the physical contact as an excuse to turn her toward the nearest exit. He cleared his throat. "Senator, we've got to get you out of here!"

Padmé pulled free of his encircling arm. "No, wait! The Queen is alive! She's the one we need to save!"

"Her Majesty?" Steel-blue eyes widened as he took in the import of Padmé's statement.

"Yes, we found her. She's waiting in a hidden chamber behind that wall!" There was no mistaking the trace of desperation in Padmé's voice. "Her escape _must_ be our first priority! I'm sure you understand…"

Comprehension and relief dawned on the Jedi's face. "Of course, m'lady! It appears Anakin's warning and our arrival were timely indeed if Naboo's monarch can still be saved."

Padmé turned to the young woman standing next to her. "Master Obi-Wan, this is Sabé, my very good friend. You might remember her. She was my decoy all those years ago on our flight to Coruscant."

"Ah yes, Sabé." Obi-Wan turned to greet the woman beside them. Smiling slightly, he inclined his head in a courtly gesture. "I remember the other 'Amidala' very well. Stubborn and brave, as I recall." The words were teasing, but there was respect and a hint of admiration in his eyes.

Sabé gave an appropriately polite response, but Padmé could've sworn her usually unflappable friend had actually blushed under the Jedi's scrutiny. She stepped between them, waving Obi-Wan toward the secret panel. "We wanted an exit plan before we opened the chamber."

"Good thinking." he confirmed, "Anakin's flight wing made short work of the Federation fighters, so I'm certain the Palace hangar bay is clear by now."

Padmé considered the new information as she pressed the concealed release button on the wall. "So we head for what's left of the hangar bay?"

Kenobi nodded. "Getting the Queen out of the palace requires a ship that can get her off-world and up to the orbiting Republic command ship." Padmé heard his unspoken question.

"Dormé took the last ship I know how to fly," she explained, "but there should still be a shuttlecraft. Jedi can fly anything, right?"

"I don't think a shuttle will present too great a challenge for me." Obi-Wan smiled gamely as the wall compartment slid open.

Inside the small concrete cell were two young Naboo women. One struggled to support an unconscious officer while the other leveled a blaster rifle suspiciously on Obi-Wan. When they saw Padmé their distrust melted into obvious relief.

Obi-Wan glanced apprehensively at the wounded man, but before he could say anything Padmé explained that Danel's rescue was _the Queen's_ priority. The taller of the two handmaidens gave a commanding nod in the affirmative, the small imperious gesture confirming for Obi-Wan which of the two women was the reigning monarch of Naboo.

With four sets of determined brown eyes focused on him Obi-Wan must have decided it would not be expedient to argue. He motioned for Sabé to switch positions with the royal 'handmaiden' and she did so quickly, without hesitation. Padmé didn't question the switch either. There was no doubt that Jamillia would be safer with a Jedi bodyguard.

With the now unprotected Queen tucked safely under his own arm, Obi-Wan nodded to everyone. Padmé understood his silent message. It was time to make a run for the hangar bay. To Noalé and Sabé, who were supporting the unconscious Danel, he muttered, "Do the best you can to keep up. If you fall behind I'll come back for you as soon as Her Majesty is safely on board the shuttle." They nodded in agreement.

Obi-Wan spared one last glance back at Anakin just as his padawan's blade slashed into the Count's off-side leg. Dooku's snarl of pain echoed off the walls; his intensity and speed escalated instantly.

At the outraged cry every eye in the room turned toward the combatants. Padmé gasped audibly, watching as Anakin met the accelerated attack head-on. Surely he wasn't actually grinning at his opponent!

Obi-Wan must have sensed her agitation, including the fact that Anakin was at the heart of it.

"Come, m'lady!" Obi-Wan spoke forcefully, waving her toward the exit. "Anakin will be fine!" She prayed that having Obi-Wan speak the words would make it so. Still, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the duel. "Please, Senator, if _I_ can feel your fear there is a chance he can too! Your presence is a distraction he doesn't need!"

The admonishment got through as nothing else could have. She would leave immediately if there was even a small chance that her presence would put her husband at greater risk. Taking one last look she focused all her love toward Anakin in her best Force-blind mental hug. If the Jedi beside her felt the intense flood of emotion toward his padawan he didn't acknowledge it.

Turning, Padmé sprinted toward the hangar bay, running as if her planet's future and her husband's life depended on it. Indeed, they did. She could hear Obi-Wan and the Queen following and hoped the others weren't far behind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Anakin felt the mental break in Dooku's concentration in tandem to the burn he'd delivered to the man's thigh. Though he sought to capitalize on the moment, the former Jedi's loss of focus was only temporary, like a flash of light in a dark room. Dooku's resolve returned with a vengeance as Anakin felt him draw on the Force to block the searing pain in his leg.

Fury and dark power poured off the Sith Lord in waves. His responding counterattack - a wild flurry of slashes and cunning jabs - barely left Anakin time to breathe. The agility and stamina of youth lent him the necessary speed and staying power to maintain his defense. Alternately dodging and parrying, Anakin deflected incoming shot after shot, even managing a few intermittent attacks of his own to keep Dooku on his toes.

With uncharacteristic patience Anakin allowed his opponent to expend valuable energy in the angry retaliatory barrage. Gradually age and fatigue took their toll and slowed his attack. Even so, the Count's vainglorious air remained intact.

Anakin found he couldn't fault the man for his pride. It was well-earned conceit considering that Dooku's footwork and sword style had remained flawless throughout the exchange. Once again Anakin found himself a little awed by the old man's poise.

If only he could find a means of dissolving that unshakeable confidence. He remembered well Master Yoda's innumerable lessons about winning a fight in your mind before you ever set foot on a battlefield. He had the lesson down. He _knew_ he could win this. He just had to convince his opponent.

As Dooku's bombardment slowed Anakin pressed forward. His saber became a whirling blur of motion. Time and again he trapped the Sith Lord's incoming blade, parrying with an assault of his own. High, then low, slashing at limbs, body, head. No matter what he did the Count remained entrenched. They traded blows furiously, moving forward and back, bits of glass grinding under their hard soled boots.

Despite the treacherousness of their footing Anakin was scarcely aware of his surroundings. Somehow they had ceased to matter. Even the ever-growing dimness of the room was no obstacle. His mind stretched out to sense each potential hazard around them: the walls, the pillars, the floor, the desk, and the chairs. He felt their presence and avoided them all as smoothly as if he could actually see them.

Time after time they traded the advantage until Dooku unexpectedly stepped back out of sword range. Anakin stood motionless, watching the older man pant for breath, lips parted as he leaned forward behind his glowing saber blade.

It was obvious that the Count was tiring although he continued to draw on the Force for strength. The expression on his face mirrored the wheels turning in his mind and Anakin knew he was seeking another method of attack.

Anakin quickly tried to recall what he'd been taught about the ways the Sith used the Force. Mentally he braced for a hard shove or possibly more Force lighting as he prepared to step forward and renew his aggressive assault. The Count must've read his intent because he took another step back before stopping to speak.

"You cannot win, Skywalker." He said imperiously. "I've lived four times your lifespan and already forgotten more tricks than you'll ever learn."

Anakin refused to rise to the bait. "Ah, but you overlook one thing." He paused for dramatic effect. "I'm the 'Chosen One'." His lip curled in what he hoped would pass for a confident, secretive smile. Only those who knew him well would've recognized that it also contained a bit of self-derision. In all his years at the Temple he had managed to avoid using the moniker to refer to himself, only to fall back on it now.

"That ancient prophecy?" Dooku sneered, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Surely you don't believe every myth the galaxy has to offer?"

In that moment Anakin desperately wished for a measure of the confidence he was doing his best to project. In truth, he hated the prophecy. Over the years he'd refused to discuss it, even with Obi-Wan. Now, he ruefully acknowledged, he would give anything to have his opponent give it credibility. Anything to shake Dooku's confidence and plant even one small seed of doubt in his mind. "You have to admit," Anakin tried for a mocking smile, "it _is_ a catchy legend. Qui-Gon Jinn believed in it. And in me."

"Yes, my apprentice was a bit gullible where such things were concerned. Not that you aren't talented." Dooku's expression was disdainful, yet Anakin could see a genuine glint of admiration in his eyes. "Oh, yes, Skywalker, you are powerful. What a shame I left the Order before meeting you. Perhaps I might've argued with Obi-Wan for the honor of being your Master."

Anakin's jaw dropped in surprise. No witty rejoinder sprang to his lips. In fact, he was completely at a loss as to how to reply. Certainly no one had ever indicated that being his master was some sort of _privilege_. In fact, quite the opposite was usually true.

Despite the brief flood of pleasure such validation inspired, Anakin pushed aside the flash of ego before simply acknowledging Dooku's assessment with a curt nod.

Dooku must've sensed the momentary weakness. "Considering your growing contempt for the Jedi Order and their utter lack of appreciation for your talents, maybe we could come to an understanding." He took a step in towards Anakin. "It would grieve me to destroy you."

It took no more than half a second for Anakin to realize he wasn't even tempted by the idea of such an alliance. He backed a step, collecting himself. It wouldn't do to let the old man rest too long at this stage of the game, not when he'd worked so hard to gain the physical advantage.

"Would this be a Sith lesson in talking one's opponent to death?" He replied. "Or are you just resting?" Without warning he lunged forward, mimicking Dooku's fencing style. The Count's eyes widened as he leapt backward, barely managing to avoid the lethal thrusting point of Anakin's blade.

With a lightning fast swipe Dooku's saber came back up, forcing Anakin's weapon aside. Never pausing, he launched into a strong counterattack against the younger man.

The sudden renewed vigor of the offensive took Anakin by surprise. He just managed to evade the blows by withdrawing several steps before parrying. His answering riposte was a combination flurry that ended with a dramatic twist of his wrist. It almost succeeded in pulling the saber from Dooku's hand. Almost.

A feeling of satisfaction shuddered through Anakin as he watched his adversary draw back once more. Dooku's silver hair fell forward in disarray and sweat ran in rivulets down his face before soaking into the neckline of his elegant attire. The battle was taking its toll on the older man, his stamina dwindling as he was forced to recoil under Anakin's powerful barrage.

Anakin seized the moment, using the Force to block his opponent's retreat.

Dooku stopped suddenly as he hit the invisible barrier. Fiercely he batted away Anakin's incoming slashes before sliding to the side. After putting a respectable arms length between them he resumed a defensive posture. Intently he peered at Anakin over his bright crimson blade. "You've done that before. On Geonosis."

Anakin's only reply was a sardonic grin as he dropped into a collected attack stance. Raising his saber over his head he prepared to renew his assault.

"I believe I told you then," Dooku continued, "that you have unusual powers." He sidestepped again, forcing Anakin to respond in kind to maintain his position. The very air seemed to vibrate as tension built between them. For the longest time neither moved, then in the same breath both men charged abruptly towards one another.

The fiery-red blade met crystal-blue with bone jarring force. Sparks flew as the energy swords locked at their point of contact. Excited ions drew together in an unyielding magnetic bond, as if seeking to twist into one single beam. The two men drew on their knowledge of the Force to push away, using every ounce of mental and physical strength at their disposal to break the stalemate.

Almost as suddenly as it happened the blades reversed their charge, repulsing each other and throwing both men backwards. Dooku staggered, tripping on the dais only a meter away before regaining his equilibrium. Anakin stumbled as well, flinging his free hand out behind him in an effort to stop his fall. His palm landed hard on the floor, shards of glass embedding in his very real flesh. He pushed hard and sprang to an upright position even as Dooku moved back towards him.

The Count's patience was clearly at an end. His every blow was now was meant to kill. The scarlet blade angled up, sending the azure one slipping to the side. It was a maneuver engineered to pull Anakin off-balance, but the Jedi managed to both keep his footing and deflect the attack.

He brought his blade back up, spinning to strike at Dooku's off side. The Count retreated unexpectedly and Anakin's blade caught nothing but air. His forward momentum carried him into the swing just as his foot skidded on the glass fragments dusting the floor. His balance lost, he went for the most stable position he could find, dropping to one knee in an effort to stop his slide.

Dooku capitalized on the mistake, but not with his lightsaber. Anakin saw him turn his empty left hand towards him and instantly felt pressure on his windpipe. It was slight at first but quickly became crushing in its intensity. What the…! He couldn't breathe! A red haze started to swim in front of his eyes even as he heard the blood rush in his ears. Panic wasn't far off. He felt the floor slip away as Dooku raised him into the air.

In a desperate maneuver he drew upon the Force and flung his lightsaber at the Count's outstretched hand. The blade windmilled perfectly. Almost in slow motion Anakin watched Dooku's eyes widen, saw the cerulean light blade tear through material and flesh. He felt the rush of agony through the Force with a clarity that he remembered from his own dismemberment even as he fought to maintain his focus on the twirling saber. With a mighty pull the hilt snapped back into his waiting palm.

It was impossible to tell what happened next. The death-grip on his throat disappeared, the Count's severed hand fell limp to the floor and Anakin dropped to his knees gratefully sucking in air.

He raised his head to look at Dooku. The man cradled his injured arm against his abdomen but bloodlust still shone from his eyes. Something else was there too now. Hatred. Absolute contempt. His eyes never leaving Anakin's, he deliberately deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt.

Anakin staggered to his feet, the dizziness of anoxia not quite gone. He sensed he had the advantage. Pain from his wound had considerably diminished Dooku's power through the Force. The knowledge was heady, empowering, especially given that the man had just put away his weapon.

An expedient Jedi would capture the Separatist leader, possibly by inflicting another debilitating injury. As Anakin walked toward him, memories of Geonosis replayed in his mind. A mock trial. Padmé bravely fighting a nexu. Watching her fall from the gunship. The searing pain of his own lost limb. Raising his lightsaber, he discovered he didn't know which he would deliver: a life-preserving wound or a death-blow.

He leapt at the Sith Lord, his azure blade sweeping down in a graceful arc only to collide with an invisible barrier as Dooku stumbled backwards toward the window.

Anakin tried to follow but again the same Force wall blocked his way. In an agony of impatience he watched as his nemesis jumped out the broken window and into the darkness. The barrier dissipated instantly and Anakin fell forward, running to the sill only to see the dust trail of a speeder disappearing into the night.

Hopping up onto the window ledge, Anakin cast about furiously for any means of following. The radiance of Naboo's triad moons was over-bright, illuminating the courtyard far below. There wasn't a speeder or swoop bike in sight that could be commandeered to give chase.

Evidently Dooku had anticipated a hasty exit and stashed his own speeder nearby. Now he was gone. His retreating form had disappeared into outskirts of the city where darkness swallowed it without a trace.

Anakin dropped back down to the floor, letting loose a string of Huttese curses.

"Please! I'm not old enough to hear those words. I _know_ you're still too young to be speaking them!" The sardonic rejoinder echoed through the room.

Spinning around, he saw Obi-Wan at one of the small side entrances. His master was leaning against the doorway almost casually, arms folded as if he'd been there a while.

"Master!" He paced restlessly, disgust and disappointment clawing at him. "Dooku escaped again!"

"The day will come when he won't be able to run." Kenobi projected a serene certainty.

"But…!" That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted Obi-Wan's permission to give chase, to follow Dooku to the ends of the galaxy if necessary. It wasn't forthcoming. He gave a frustrated growl. "We're losing Count Dooku for the second time! How can you be so calm?"

"Trust me on this." Obi-Wan straightened, moving to where Anakin stood by the window. "With an injury like that he'll be headed off-world long before we could catch him."

Anakin felt his master's hand come to rest reassuringly on his shoulder as they stared out into the night.

"You fought brilliantly, padawan, but sometimes winning isn't about defeating one's opponent." Obi-Wan sighed. "You haven't seen the last of the Count of Serenno, not after today. You've made an enemy there. For now, don't lose sight of the greater victory. The Queen is safely aboard the rescue ship and the Trade Federation troops are being driven from Naboo."

"The Queen? She's been found?" Anakin asked, not bothering to hide his amazement.

"Found? Well, yes. You didn't know?" It was Obi-Wan's turn to sound surprised.

"Well, I _was_ a little preoccupied." Anakin's protest was matter-of-fact, lacking his customary defensiveness. "I was protecting Padmé…because of her possible role as temporary Regent, of course."

"Indeed." Concern flickered across Obi-Wan's face but dissipated quickly. "Apparently Her Majesty was masquerading as a handmaiden - not an unusual occurrence around here."

"Padmé is alright then?" Anakin sought confirmation of what he already knew. He had felt her reassurance during the battle, knew then that she'd been making her escape, and felt immensely grateful. One less worry had allowed him to focus more fully on the duel.

"Actually, she had the Queen's rescue well underway when I found her." Obi-Wan smiled wryly as he spoke. "I've always been impressed by the Senator's ingenuity in the face of danger. I doubt she needed my help at all."

Anakin kept his agreement to a simple nod, afraid that any words of praise would advertise the possessive pride he felt in his lady's resourcefulness. Inside he swallowed hard on a wave of relief that threatened to weaken his knees. His wife was safe.

"Speaking of Senator Amidala…" Kenobi muttered, activating his wrist com-link. "Captain, this is General Kenobi. Do you copy?"

"Affirmative General. Status?" A rough masculine voice answered the hail.

"Please report to the Senator that the situation is under control. Dooku escaped to the south of the city, but Commander Skywalker is fine."

"Will do, General. Her Excellency will be quite pleased to have news."

"No doubt." A teasing grin lit Obi-Wan's tired features. "She threatened me with grave bodily injury if I didn't report back immediately."

There was an answering chuckle from the officer on the other end of the com-link before he replied. "We'll send scouts out to search for Count Dooku."

"Good. I doubt you'll find anything, but it couldn't hurt to try. I know the fighters are already down, but you should put a few back in the sky, just in case." Obi-Wan continued to cover his bases with ruthless efficiency. "Please have all available troops meet me in front of the palace at once. With the damage to the city, it looks like we'll be needed for the search and rescue effort."

"Understood." The faceless officer replied. "I'll send them immediately."

"Excellent. Kenobi out." He shut off the comlink and turned to Anakin. Suddenly he seemed to notice the weariness in his padawan's stance. "You've got to be exhausted. Perhaps you should head to the command ship to rest a while."

Anakin waved the suggestion away. "I'm fine." His mind was already racing in half a dozen different directions. "There's so much to do."

Obi-Wan's eyes followed the careless gesture. "Anakin, what _have_ you done to yourself?"

Anakin followed his master's gaze, surprised to see blood dripping from his fingertips to the floor. Funny, he hadn't noticed the injury until just this moment. Suddenly his hand began to sting abominably.

He turned the wounded appendage over to get a closer look, trying to remember when and how the damage had occurred.

As Obi-Wan leaned in closer, he pulled a small luminescent wand from his utility belt and held it close to Anakin's palm. Small cuts traced across the surface of his skin while bright red blood oozed from the wounds. About a dozen slivers of glass were still embedded in the tender flesh.

"My, doesn't this feel familiar." Obi-Wan muttered. "Here, hold this."

Anakin dutifully took the lightwand, grasping it in his mechanical hand as Obi-Wan cupped the wounded flesh hand gently.

"Familiar?" Anakin looked up, confused.

"I seem to remember a certain young boy who had an unfortunate run-in with a thorny shrub on Tarrellia…" Using a thin electrical probe from his mechanics kit Obi-Wan began picking out visible pieces of glass. His thoughts might've been lingering in the past, but his concentration was on the task at hand as he carefully extracted the offending shards.

"Master, that was a long time ago." Anakin couldn't help feeling a trifle indignant at the reminder.

"Not so very long." There was a hint of mirth in the older Jedi's voice, but to his credit he managed to keep all traces of amusement from his expression. Something about his Master's teasing finally cracked the cold knot of tension at Anakin's core and he slowly let his anxiety begin to fade away.

"Anyway, it wasn't my _hand_ those thorns got stuck in." He confessed wryly, joining in the recollection. It hadn't been funny at the time, but looking back now...

Obi-Wan laughed at the grudging acknowledgement, his momentary loss of focus drawing a loud yelp from Anakin. Mumbling a quick apology he tore a strip of linen from his undertunic and wrapped it snugly around Anakin's hand.

"There you are. As bandages go, it isn't the cleanest, but it should hold you until you get real medical attention."

Anakin let his hand fall to his side. The cuts were already forgotten as he watched Obi-Wan slide the small probe back into the leather pouch at his waist. There was something that still needed to be said.

"Thank you." As displays of gratitude went it wasn't much, but Anakin meant it with every fiber of his being.

Obi-Wan tried to gloss over the sentiment; as usual he was uncomfortable with emotionally heavy moments. "No need. You would've done the same for me if I'd been hurt." He tried to turn away.

Anakin grasped Obi-Wan's arm lightly with his uninjured hand. The unexpected contact was enough to halt his master's retreat. Blue eyes met blue, crystal touching smoke.

"No, really, I mean thank you for coming here to Naboo. I didn't expect help at all, much less _your_ help, not after the way we left things on Coruscant."

Obi-Wan seemed to be searching for an appropriate response. "Anakin, a few words uttered in anger don't erase the years I've loved you." His master's voice was gruff, solemn.

Now it was Anakin's turn to feel at a loss. Before he could say anything Obi-Wan continued to surprise him. "I know you have your reasons for pulling away from me lately and I know you aren't ready to share them. Still, you _are_ my family. Closer than a brother, as dear as any son I'll never have. No matter how grown-up you become, any time you need me I'll be here for you."

"I-" Anakin knew he should respond but had no idea what to say. His master's words seemed to have stolen all rational thought.

"Enough said." Obi-Wan waved away any attempt at a reply before resting a hand companionably on Anakin's shoulder. "We've got work to do." As they turned to leave the room he stopped to look up at his padawan. "When in blazes did you get so tall?"

The subject change was deliberate, but Anakin couldn't help laughing, equally relieved to see the tense moment pass. There _was_ more to say, but it could wait for another time.

Obi-Wan was right; there was still much to do. First, though, he had to see Padmé. Whether to touch her, hold her, or simply verify for himself that she was unhurt, the need was eating at him.

"Master, I think I'll just run over to the hangar bay and see if there might be a medic with a bacta kit for my hand. I'll join you soon."

"Good idea." Obi-Wan agreed, already heading for the main double doors that would take him back outside. "I'll get a rescue station set up in front of the palace and see you there when you finish."

Anakin nodded before sprinting towards the side door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The palace hangar bay had altered drastically in appearance from only a few hours ago. Several power generators now lined the most intact wall, while strategically placed portable lights lit the entire floor. Although huge chunks of the roof were still missing, most of the debris and scrap had been piled in a slip usually reserved for docking larger ships. Ground troops were even now using cargo loaders to push the remaining rubble into that same large mound.

Anakin scanned the various clusters of busy officers for any sign of Padmé. He knew she would be here, in the thick of things. Finally he spotted the object of his search seated amidst military personnel at what looked like a flight control station.

Quickly he made his way across the deck, dodging busy work droids and newly arrived loyalist work crews. As he got closer, he could see that Padmé and those around her were focused on a large transparent topographic map. He was far from an expert on Naboo geography, but he guessed that the pale blue sections indicated the landmasses of the planet. The red flashing sections were self-explanatory.

Padmé was concentrating intensely, speaking into her headset comlink every few seconds before pressing a small pointer to the screen. Each touch created a tiny bead of red light at her chosen location. Republic officers in drab gray uniforms peered over her shoulders, analyzing the information that was slowly being revealed.

With so many troops around it was clear he couldn't simply drag her out of the chair and into his arms. He opted for sliding in behind the officers, quietly perusing the map while waiting for a viable opportunity to interrupt. He'd only been there a few moments when one of the men recognized him.

"Commander Skywalker! Good to see you, sir!"

The second she heard his name Padmé stood, sliding off her headset and handing it to the person on her right. Her tired eyes met Anakin's as she gave the officer instructions. "Please, take over for me Captain. I have some business to attend to." Anakin missed the officer's reply as he watched his lady make her way through the group.

"Anakin!" Padmé uttered his name with all the reverence of a prayer as she stopped in front of him. She looked him over head-to-toe as if to reassure herself that he really wasn't missing any limbs.

The urge to sweep her into his arms was almost overwhelming, but Anakin held his ground, doing his best to project an air of detached professionalism under so many watchful pairs of eyes.

Padmé, too, wore her best neutral Senatorial expression, but worry was evident in her voice. "You're hurt?" She nodded towards his crudely bandaged hand.

"Just a scratch." He tried to appear indifferent but Padmé would have none of it.

"This light isn't good here, but I think it definitely needs medical attention." Her expression was shuttered, but Anakin could see the strain etched on her pale features as she struggled to keep up the pretense of polite concern.

Padmé reached for his sleeve, tugging on it briefly before turning towards the far side of the hangar. "Come with me."

He followed quickly as they went through one of the side doors, entering the deserted hallway they'd been in only hours before. The generators were working here, too, and in the dim emergency lighting he could see well enough to recognize the doorways that led into the various private hangars. Padmé pulled him towards the one that housed his starfighter. He scrambled for the key card, laughing awkwardly as he dropped it in his haste. He muttered something about Jedi reflexes, but a second later he had the door open and they rushed inside.

The instant it shut behind them he pulled Padmé into his embrace, feeling her own arms wrap around his waist with surprising strength. He hugged her tightly, loosening his grip only when he heard her whimper. He was instantly contrite. How could he have forgotten her injured shoulder? He tried to pull back to check on her injury, but she held him fast, clinging frantically as she raised her face for his kiss.

It was beyond his power to deny her and he gratefully met her lips with his own. Passion sparked between them, as always, but it was overshadowed by their desperate need to give and receive reassurance. Each drew what they needed from the other: strength, hope and resolve. Gradually the urgency spent itself, leaving tender, clinging kisses in its wake.

Long moments passed before their lips parted and Padmé pressed her face into Anakin's chest. Protectively he rested his chin on her head.

Padmé was first to speak. Even in the tomblike silence of the hangar bay her voice was so low he almost missed it. "You had me worried, leaving with Dooku like that."

"I'm sorry." He dropped a kiss on the crown of her head to reinforce his words. "I had to get him away from you and I couldn't think of any other way."

"I forgive you." She pulled back swiftly looking up at him as if privy to a great revelation. "We found Jamillia! And Dormé's husband and sister!" Her eyes sparkled with a renewed hope that almost drove the shadows out. Almost.

"Obi-Wan told me." He smiled, leaning down enough from his considerable height to press his forehead against hers. "That means Naboo will rebuild?"

"Oh I think you can count on that." Her lower lip trembled slightly. "Anakin!" Tears welled suddenly in her eyes. "My family's house is in the old sector of the city, the one that was leveled by the bombs."

"And your parents?" Fear crept into his voice.

"They're fine." She reassured him quickly. "Father had just taken everyone up to the mountains to celebrate Ryoo and Pooja's fall retreat from school. I spoke to them briefly on the comlink not long before you came to find me. There wasn't any bombing where they are." She dropped her head again, clearly relieved, but Anakin could feel her conflicting emotions. "I know I have so much to be thankful for, and I truly am grateful, but it's just… that was my home…where I grew up. It had been my family's home for generations…"

Anakin hugged her again, sensing her need for stability and comfort. "Oh Padmé, I'm so sorry." He knew she wasn't minimizing the losses others had suffered, losses to life or the richness of her planet's history, but he understood her need to acknowledge her own very personal loss. She needed this moment to deal with her own pain before she could return to the spotlight to lead the mourning of her entire world.

Dawn would come soon enough and with it the responsibilities of her leadership role.

He knew their different obligations would not allow him to stand beside her as Naboo struggled to rebuild, but he _could_ give her a small gift now: private time to deal with her grief so she could appear strong for her people in the days to come.

"Arfour?" He spoke into the darkness. Moments later an answering bleep sounded far across the room. "Fire up the flight systems and transmit a take-off clearance request for Commander Skywalker to do a brief reconnaissance of the area." The droid's short whistle affirmed his order.

Padmé pulled back, clearly confused. "You're leaving now?"

"Trust me." He whispered before pulling her towards his starfighter. Lights across the sleek silver and blue hull blinked on and off as the little astromech ran the preflight systems check.

The cockpit opened as they approached. Anakin lifted Padmé up to the wing before swinging easily up behind her. He lowered himself into the pilot's chair, sliding it back as far as it would go.

"Come on." He motioned to Padmé, indicating that she should join him. She hesitated. There wasn't much room in a single-person fighter. "Come on! I promise we'll fit fine." He couldn't resist a rakish grin as she raised an aristocratic eyebrow.

She climbed down in front of him, squeezing into the small space on the seat between his knees. He did his best to ignore his body's reaction to her close proximity, taking several deep breaths to slow his quickening heart as he adjusted his headset. Clearance approval flashed in bright gold letters across his flight monitor.

The ship's canopy slid closed, locking with a click as he reached around Padmé to flip the switch that would override Arfour's autopilot. Cool pressurized air filled the small compartment.

"This is Commander Skywalker, ready for take-off." As he punched the ignition switch the sublight engines fired with barely a shudder. Grasping the control stick with his mechanical hand, he rested his injured human hand across Padmé's abdomen. The combination of the two loves of his life – Padmé and flying – was dizzying. Under better circumstances he was sure he'd feel elated.

"I wonder why we've never done this before." He muttered to himself.

"Clearance confirmed, Commander." An electronically filtered voice came back through his headset. "Sorry for the delay. We're a little low on power sources down here so we've shunted generator one to your hydraulic doors." The huge durasteel panels were already sliding apart to reveal the busy hangar bay. "You may exit when ready."

Padmé was afraid. Anakin could sense the fear radiating from her; feel the trembling in her slight frame. Nothing they had faced the entire day brought as much trepidation as the thought of facing the damage the Separatists had inflicted on Naboo.

"Ready?" His question was a whisper of warmth at her ear.

Padmé nodded.

With a squeeze of the throttle and a deft flick of his wrist the starfighter shot up and forward before turning sharply to blast out of the hangar bay.

* * *

Moments later they were soaring over Theed.

The tri-lunar light was brilliant, but its pale iridescence lent a desolate air to the ruins of the city, painting everything in shades of gray.

It was clear to see that the palace had been hit hard, with most of the rock of the outer structures blasted away. The entry colonnade was in ruin; the stone arch and the huge statues of Naboo philosophers no longer stood guard over the entrance.

As they passed into the city Padmé could see the crumbled walls of the Hall of Perri-Teeka and the nearby collapsing Rotunda built by the Earl of Vis. She was surprised to see one of the oldest structures, Guido's Tower, still standing mostly intact. The Parnelli Museum of Art was another story; it was leveled to the ground.

So much of her planet's history, represented in these familiar landmarks, had been taken in the blink of an eye. From this point forward Naboo would be a very different place from the peaceful world she once ruled; from the home she had loved her entire life.

The residential districts were next and were by far the saddest areas. Padmé could just make out the tiny forms of citizens rummaging through all that was left of their dwellings and their lives. Some of the houses were flattened, but most retained at least some semblance of their basic structure. A number were on fire, serving as bright tragic beacons through the colorless night.

As they circled slowly over the older areas Padmé released a shuddering breath. She could barely make out the plot of land where her family's house had stood for so many generations. Just as she'd been told, the area was nothing but scorched earth and rock. She willed herself to cry, praying the tears would dull the anguish that knifed through her. It didn't work. The tears would not come.

"Odd." The word slipped unbidden through dry lips. She was surprised to find her voice steady and strong even as her heart was breaking.

"Hmm?" Anakin's prompting was gentle.

"I've spent the last year and a half digging through ruins just like this on other worlds; relocating homeless, helping them pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. I cried so many times for their lost and dead. Why are there no tears now, when _I_ need them?"

She felt Anakin's deep sigh behind her. "I think sometimes sorrow can go too deep for tears."

Padmé felt suddenly as if all warmth had left her blood despite the controlled temperature of the cockpit. For the first time in her life she understood how someone could want to die of sorrow.

Anakin must have felt her shiver, because he tightened his arm around her and kissed her hair tenderly.

She leaned back against him, seeking the warmth of his body, finding solace in his strength. "Take me back."

He was silent, but immediately turned the throttle control and angled them back towards the palace.

Feeling empty inside Padmé said a silent prayer of thanks for the lives of her family that had been spared. Then she gave one for Anakin, and for the Queen, and for the others they had saved today. Then she prayed for the strength and the will to rebuild.

The last thing she saw before they turned into the hangar bay was Virdugo Plunge, the largest waterfall in the city. It, alone, appeared unchanged by the devastation around it; the dark green waters of the Solleu River sparkled in the moonlight, continuing to spill over the edge of the cliff face as they had for thousands of years. Water. For the Naboo it was a timeless symbol of renewal and hope.

For the first time that night Padmé felt certain Naboo would survive.

* * *

The landing went smoothly. Anakin settled the small fighter to the deck as the shield doors closed on the private bay.

Normally he would have stopped in the main hangar and allowed the R4 unit to guide the ship back into the bay after a good once-over. Tonight he preferred to dock it himself to take advantage of the few extra moments of privacy it would afford for him and Padmé.

For reasons he preferred not to explore, he was less than anxious to join in the clean-up efforts. It seemed prudent to put off returning until the last possible second.

He flicked several switches and the ship started its power-down sequence. Padmé sat unmoving in front of him, in no hurry to leave the quiet, intimate cocoon of the starfighter. They both knew there was work to be done, but he could tell his wife shared his reluctance to return to the tasks at hand.

"This will probably be the last of our time alone together for a very long time." Her voice was low, listless. He had to admit that fact was weighing heavily on him as well.

Had it been only three short days ago that they'd begun their idyllic holiday? Only last night that they'd shared passion while enjoying the cleansing rain? At the time it had felt like a beginning. Now it seemed a lifetime ago and he was filled with the strangest sense of loss.

"Anakin, tell me everything is going to get better." She leaned back against him. "I want to believe it, but I seem to have misplaced my optimism."

He kissed the crown of her head softly before shifting her slight form across his lap and wrapping both arms around her. Eyes closed, she snuggled against his chest and mumbled something he didn't hear.

"What?" He prodded.

She turned her face up to his. "I just said that I understand now why you hate the Tuskens. I don't think I really did before."

Anakin couldn't think of anything to say in reply. Padmé reached up, touching his cheek gently with her hand. "So many times today if I had possessed the power to kill those who did this to my homeworld I would have done it. Right or wrong, it wouldn't have mattered." She shook her head. "All that power you have… it must be a terrible burden sometimes…"

"Sometimes." Dooku's face flashed across his mind but he said nothing more.

They stayed like that for a while longer, until Padmé's com-link buzzed insistently. She pulled it from her belt.

"This is the Senator." Brisk efficiency was back in her demeanor.

"Senator Amidala," the disembodied voice started, "Captain Treyar needs you at the command center immediately. There are two outlying locations with survivors. We have dispatched crews to help, but there will be decisions to make."

"I'll be right there." Her reply was clipped as she signed off.

Anakin had already pressed the release for the cockpit canopy. It was rising slowly. He took advantage of the delay to drop a kiss on Padmé's unsuspecting mouth. She responded to the caress by returning one of her own, then unenthusiastically climbed down from the cockpit.

After flipping the last few switches in the docking cycle, Anakin gave instructions to Arfour and joined Padmé on the ground.

She eyed his bandaged hand. "I know you keep saying its nothing, but I want you to promise me you'll see a medic for a bacta glove before you return to duty."

Anakin laughed softly. The momentary weakness Padmé allowed herself had once more been replaced with senatorial resolve.

"I will." He replied. Her expression remained dubious. "I promise!"

She stared at him intently, as if trying to memorize his face. "I really do have to go," she murmured, her gaze never wavering.

"Yes, you do." He acknowledged, taking a step towards her.

"You heard the com-center. They need me there as soon as possible." Still she didn't move.

"That's what they said." Another step brought him closer.

"Why am I not gone yet?"

"Perhaps you're waiting for your husband to kiss you before you go." Two steps this time. He was less than an arms length away.

"Yes, perhaps I am." The words had barely left her mouth when Anakin swept her into his embrace. He pulled her tightly to him, so that there wasn't an inch of their bodies that didn't touch. Padmé responded with equal fervor, burying her hands in his hair as their lips met and clung.

Their kiss went on and on until Anakin groaned softly and pulled away. He carefully and methodically set her at arms length, brushing imaginary dust off her tunic, before turning his back to her and taking several deep breaths. He ran his cloth-wrapped hand through his hair in an effort to still its trembling.

"If you don't go now I promise you won't return to your post 'as soon as possible.'" He didn't look at her, clinging to his resolve by a thread.

"Oh Anakin…" He could sense her uncertainty and knew she wanted to stay as much as he didn't want her to leave. He felt her take a step towards him.

"Don't come any closer unless you mean to be here a while." His tone was serious. "I meant what I said. If you need me to be noble and send you back to the command center, you'll just be disappointed. Letting you go again will take strength this Jedi doesn't have."

Time slowed to a crawl as he waited in agony for her to leave. Her softly spoken reply stole what was left of his breath.

"Then I guess I'll just have to come up with a good excuse for my delay." Her boots echoed with deliberate taps on the duracrete floor as she drew closer.

Anakin stood frozen, almost afraid to believe what he'd just heard. Then he felt her press against him from behind, her slim arms encircling his waist, and he was lost.

He turned swiftly, pulling her into his arms and urgently locking his lips to hers in one fluid motion. War and death. Time and duty. It all ceased to matter.

It was well over an hour before either of them returned to their posts.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The Loyalist forces worked tirelessly throughout the night to rescue survivors and restore some semblance of order to Theed. By dawn the fires had been put out, power was restored to all but the most outlying areas and those in need of medical care were receiving treatment.

Dawn was edging its way across the horizon as Anakin slowed his swoop bike through what remained of the city's old residential district. As one of the oldest and most affluent parts of the city, the northern quarter was renowned for its elaborate gardens and spectacular vistas. This was the area Padmé's family had called home until yesterday.

As he looked around he felt his objectivity slipping. Now that he was here - where Padmé grew up - he could feel anger edging its way forward. He had yet to come across her house, but every ruined dwelling he passed reminded him how easily she could have lost her entire family. _His_ family now too, he reminded himself, even if they didn't know it.

Resolutely he pushed the anger aside to be dealt with later. Right now, he had to find Obi-Wan.

Somewhere in the midst of all this chaos his master was working with a sizeable excavation crew. For over an hour the command center had been trying to reach him by comlink, but had been unable to make contact. Apparently the static interference common to blast sites was jamming all electronic communications in that area.

Normally they would wait for the charge to dissipate and try again, but time was in short supply. Master Windu had summoned every Jedi on Naboo to gather at the palace steps shortly after sunrise and Obi-Wan was the only crew leader who hadn't been informed.

Anakin had stumbled into the job of finding him after checking in with the Council once his assigned area had been secured. Master Windu himself had suggested that Anakin might want to track down his master and return him for the meeting. Normally he would've chaffed at such a menial assignment, but he had to admit with the Force connection they shared he really was the practical choice. It surprised him to realize he didn't mind serving as errand boy. The difference, he was sure, lay in the fact that the council had heeded his word. For the first time it seemed they had trusted him completely, enough to commit major military reinforcements to Naboo based on his word alone.

The sense that Obi-Wan was close by had grown steadily stronger in the past few minutes. Anakin focused on the source of his master's presence, turning onto a particularly rocky path leading sharply uphill. He hadn't gone far when he saw a crew working to move durasteel beams and stone from the charred remains of several moderately sized cliff-face dwellings.

As Anakin drew closer he easily recognized the only soldier with Jedi garb to complement his body armor. Obi-Wan stood silently amidst the rubble with eyes closed, one hand gently stroking his beard. His expression was calm, meditative, but the furrow between his brows betrayed his intense concentration.

Anakin parked the swoop near the edge of the cliff and made his way over the debris.

"Hello Padawan." Obi-Wan greeted him without opening his eyes. "How go things at your end of the world?"

"We finished our survey of the eastern sector." Anakin replied, "At least 300 are confirmed dead there." His master's frown grew deeper with that information, but Anakin continued. "I was sent to find you. Master Windu wants us all to meet with him at the palace immediately."

"Com-links out again?"

"Unfortunately." It was the standard state of affairs.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath before exhaling slowly and dropping his hand to his side. He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the brightening sky. The familiar blue-gray of those orbs reflected only weariness and discouragement and it suddenly occurred to Anakin that his master had never seemed quite so tired or….well…old. For the first time he noticed the new wings of gray threading through Obi-Wan's ginger hair.

"How are things here?" He asked.

"Futile, actually." Obi-Wan answered. "This was one of the hardest hit areas and the life-sign sensor equipment is not performing well. I'm doing the best I can without it, but it's been hours since we found someone alive. Since then I haven't felt anything even remotely encouraging."

Given the extent of the destruction around them Anakin couldn't say he was surprised.

Finding those who were clinging to life was a difficult task even in ideal circumstances, which these definitely were not. Situations like this catered to recovering the dead, not rescuing the living. So far, the death toll among the Naboo had risen into the thousands. With every report it was climbing and they had yet to receive any authoritative information from the Gungan cities.

"This was my last area," His master continued, "so I guess we can be on our way. I'm confident we won't find anyone else here." Anakin nodded. He had to admit his own perceptions were the same.

Obi-Wan shouted an order to one of his Captains, telling them to proceed to the next sector as he turned to follow Anakin. His eyes widened in surprise at the swoop bike. "I don't suppose it occurred to you to bring a speeder?"

"No, master," he deadpanned, "I know how you love the wind in your hair." He couldn't swear to it, but Anakin thought he saw Obi-Wan's lip curl in his customary slight smile.

"True." The older Jedi agreed without enthusiasm. "That's what I like about you, Padawan. Your unceasing concern that my every wish be fulfilled." Yes, there was definitely a hint of ironic humor in his master's voice. "I don't suppose you brought any crash gear? A helmet maybe?" Anakin shrugged helplessly. "No, I didn't think so."

It was one of those rare moments when they were completely at ease with each other - the kind that had been too few and far between of late. Before he could stop them Anakin found words spilling from his lips. "Master, before we go, could I ask you a question?"

The sudden seriousness of Anakin's tone must have registered and all traces of teasing vanished from Obi-Wan's demeanor. "Of course."

"There is a melting pit in the generator complex. Pad…er, the Senator and I came through it on our way into the palace."

Obi-Wan inclined his head slightly, as if to say that he did, indeed, remember the area.

"When we went through there, something made me stop. The air was so oppressive and cold. I've never felt anything like it." Anakin went on to explain the disturbing visions he'd been shown, of Qui-Gon's death at the hands of the Sith Lord and Obi-Wan's subsequent victory.

His master's reaction was completely unexpected. It was almost as if he were stunned - not so much by the story itself, but by the fact that it was Anakin telling it. He ran a hand across his beard, staring vacantly into the distance.

"Curious, that the Force chose to give you such a revelation. The Council specifically told me never to speak of that day – the events that occurred, the choices I made, those were mine alone. Aside from those Council members, I've never told anyone."

Anakin suddenly realized the depth of the glimpse he'd been given into his master's soul. "I won't speak of it to anyone." Though his promise was earnestly given, there was still one question burning in his mind. One thing he had to ask. There might never be a better time.

"Did you ever blame yourself because Master Qui-Gon was killed? For not being there with him at that moment to protect him, for not being fast enough…"

Obi-Wan's response was a long time coming. He crossed his arms thoughtfully and leaned back against a large rock.

"That was the darkest day of my life, watching the Sith cut down Qui-Gon in front of me. In that instance I was completely helpless and I will never forget that feeling." His eyes turned piercing as he looked back at Anakin. "Guilt is another matter entirely. Certainly I deep regret that I wasn't there alongside my master, but Anakin, guilt isn't a feeling a Jedi can afford to embrace. If I spent my whole life looking back and wishing I'd run faster, that I hadn't slipped, that I'd been a better swordsman, what would it have accomplished? It would not bring Qui-Gon back. Guilt cannot change what has been, but it can profoundly affect the future."

For the first time in years Anakin broke eye contact, dropping his gaze to somewhere around the region of Obi-Wan's feet. It was a gesture he'd adopted as a ten-year old whenever someone – usually Obi-Wan – was being too perceptive.

"Somehow I sense this isn't about my own struggles." Obi-Wan sighed deeply as he stood up straight. "Anakin, look at me."

Uncertainty flickered across Obi-Wan's face when his padawan's eyes met his, but it didn't keep him from speaking his mind. "I know you have secrets and I'm not going to pretend to know or understand what they are, but you've got to rid yourself of the things that haunt you. Guilt, anger, deception -" Anakin felt the fear reflected in his expression, but for once he couldn't manage to hide it "- yes, I know you can't reconcile not saving your mother – that, and so many other burdens you've taken upon yourself. But Anakin, you have no right to those burdens. People choose their own paths, roads that lead to life or death, and we can't take that power away from them no matter how much we want to. No authority in the universe, not the most powerful Jedi, the Chosen child of prophecy or even the Force itself can change that."

Anakin turned away, feeling stricken by Obi-Wan's words. Burdens he had _no right_ to? Was it true that his mother had chosen her own path? How could he accept what his master was telling him? How could he just go on _knowing_ that he could have changed things if only he'd gotten there sooner? He spun back to face his master.

Obi-Wan looked faintly surprised and Anakin knew it was an expression he shared. He couldn't help feeling taken aback that he had allowed himself to say so much. But why not? At this point neither of them had anything to gain from holding back. Though he conceded that blunt honesty was the road less traveled between them, he wasn't finding it as uncomfortable a trip as he'd imagined it would be.

"I… Master, I…" Anakin tried to speak, only to find he was once again at a loss for words.

Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, his voice gentling. "Look, you've been lying to me for quite some time now about something very important. Why doesn't matter. I'm sure you feel you have your reasons. But the deception _is_ changing you. It will just keep eating at your heart until there isn't anything left of Anakin Skywalker." Anakin's eyes blurred and he blinked rapidly to dispel the hot rush of tears. His master continued, "I'm sorry, it might be wrong of me, but when I look at you I don't see the "Chosen One" destined to save the galaxy. I see that little boy I met on Tatooine, trying to figure out where he fits. I also see a good man, a friend, who has spent his life trying to live up to standards no human being can possibly meet. Please, Anakin, be honest with me. Trust me. I promise I'll do my best to help you."

At that moment Anakin wanted nothing more. He opened his mouth to speak.

The sudden insistent beeping of Obi-Wan's comlink broke the silence. He gazed ruefully at Anakin, irritation evident in every line of his body as he plucked the offensive device from his belt. "We're not finished."

Anakin grinned broadly as he used his tunic sleeve to wipe his face. No, they definitely weren't, but suddenly it wasn't important. Telling Obi-Wan about Padmé, about the Tuskens, all that could be done later. Suddenly his heart was lighter than it had any right to be under the circumstances. For the first time in a very long time he felt he truly had his master back. No, his _friend_. Now there was a reason to hope Obi-Wan would understand the choices he'd made. Perhaps everything _would _be all right.

"This is General Kenobi." His master responded to the insistent page with clipped annoyance as Anakin mounted the swoop.

"General." It was Mace Windu, sounding equally exasperated. "Is your padawan with you?"

"Yes, Master, he is." Obi-Wan had the grace to sound sheepish.

"Could I trouble the two of you to join the rest of us here at the palace?" It was not a question.

"Yes, sir. We're on our way." Obi-Wan slid the comlink back into his belt and hopped behind Anakin on the repulsor bike. In less than a second they were racing back towards the palace.

* * *

When Anakin pulled the swoop to a stop at the Royal palace there were nearly two-dozen Jedi sitting in a loose semicircle on the steps. He barely had time to swing his leg off the bike before Obi-Wan clapped a hand on his shoulder to nudge him toward the gathering.

Mace Windu was talking casually to the group from where he stood at the foot of the steps. He managed to project his usual dignified air despite the mud caked on his tunic and boots. Anakin was suddenly acutely aware of the dirt and grime that covered him.

There was small consolation in the fact that no one else had taken time to clean up either.

Master Aayla Secura was covered in so much dust that her vivid blue skin appeared a washed out gray. Her new padawan, a green-skinned Twi'lek boy, wasn't faring much better.

Next to them sat Barriss Offee, who looked by far the worst off of the bunch. From her wet, bedraggled state he could only guess that she'd been assigned to one of the lake recovery teams. Anakin recalled the vastly different picture she'd presented at her knighting ceremony last season. The contrast between her usually meticulous grooming and her current impression of a drowned womp-rat struck Anakin as particularly funny. She looked up suddenly and grinned as if sensing his amusement. He smiled and nodded back before doing his best to slip discreetly up the steps toward the back of the circle.

He found a spot quickly, dropping gracefully in behind Lieri Adana, an Alderaani padawan five years his junior. He knew her from the training arena at the Temple – she spent a great deal of time there working to compensate for her notorious lack of grace. Anakin teased her constantly about her footwork, but she always took it well, never missing a chance to retaliate with banter of her own. Today was no exception as she leaned back and chided him in a whisper. "Sorry, Skywalker, even covered in dirt you're too pretty to sneak in unnoticed." He reached forward and ruffled her short brown hair before settling on the steps.

Obi-Wan approached Master Windu, giving him an update on the progress of his last few sectors. Fellow council members Adi Gallia and Saesee Tiin rose to listen in. After conferring quietly for a moment all three remained standing next to Mace as the Council leader turned to address the gathering. It occurred to Anakin how at home Obi-Wan looked up there with the other Jedi Masters. He made a mental note to ask him later if there was any truth to the rumor that he'd been offered Deepa Billaba's place on the Council.

Though every eye was on him already Mace Windu commanded attention by clearing his throat before speaking. "As you all know, the Jedi need to leave Naboo soon. There is still much to do here, but the Republic Relief Effort is sending crews to assist. Within the hour Queen Jamillia will give a statement to publicly answer questions about Naboo on the galactic front." He began pacing back and forth, on his face an expression of deep concentration. "As far as the status of the other worlds that came under attack yesterday, I will tell you what little I know. According to Master Yoda on Kamino, the cloning facilities are secured though they sustained heavy damage and production will be effected. Master Fisto on Mon Calamari and Master Piell on Taanab report heavy troop casualties. We have sent reinforcements to assist them both. The Wookies on Kashyyyk have their situation well in hand, as evidenced by Master Tiin's presence here. Masters Poof and Unduli have secured a resounding victory on Ryloth, while Master Ki-Adi-Mundi and his troops have done almost as well on Bothauwi." He stopped pacing, allowing his gaze to drift from one weary Jedi to the next.

"I don't think I need to tell any of you how lucky we were that Anakin Skywalker was here on Naboo. He was instrumental in rescuing their Queen from almost certain death. In addition, through his efforts the single greatest threat to the Jedi Order in millennia has finally been revealed." The entire group straightened perceptively, their tiredness banished by their curiosity. "We've known for quite some time that the former Jedi Count Dooku of Serenno was leading the Separatist rebellion against the Republic. Now, however, we have confirmed our suspicions that he is also a Sith." A low murmur filtered through the group, ceasing only when Master Windu continued. "The implications of that have yet to be ascertained, but you can rest assured that Master Yoda and I will meditate on it more fully in days to come."

As will I, Anakin thought to himself. Sith or not, taking out Dooku was his new personal mission. In addition to the satisfaction he would receive from getting that job done, he knew such a loss would deal a death-blow to the Confederacy. If they were lucky, it would remove the cornerstone from the uneasy union. One thing was becoming clear. Ending this war was the only way to ensure Padmé's safety.

"There is one final item of business before I dismiss you all to return to Coruscant." Mace stopped speaking and looked directly at Anakin. "Padawan Skywalker, would you join us down here a moment?" Anakin winced, surprised to be singled out at this point.

All eyes turned to him. Though the inquiry had been politely posed as a question, it was clear from the firmness in the Jedi Master's voice that refusing was not an option. Rising quickly to his feet, he tried to brush the driest of the dirt off his tunic before descending the stairs. He could've sworn he heard Lieri mutter something about being in trouble again.

When he stopped in front of Master Windu, his usual confidence had deserted him. He was tempted to make a flip comment, hoping it would dispel his nervousness, but a sidelong glance at Obi-Wan's stern expression ruled that out. He settled for clasping his hands behind his back and quietly facing the leader of the Jedi Council.

"Padawan," Mace began, "your actions here on Naboo have clearly shown your resourcefulness, your excellent judgment and your maturity. At this time it is the decision of the Council to heed the recommendation of your Master and elevate you to the rank of Jedi Knight."

Anakin's knees went weak at the unexpected announcement. Somehow he managed to remain standing even as Master Windu grasped his shoulders and turned him to face the assembled Jedi. He was at once humbled and surprised to find that the entire exhausted crew from moments before had risen to their feet in a timeless gesture of respect.

Mace was still speaking but for the life of him Anakin couldn't understand the words he said. All he could hear over the blood rushing in his ears were the joyous exclamations from Lieri and the other padawans. Their outbursts were hastily subdued after several pointed glances from the surrounding knights.

When he felt Obi-Wan's steadying grip on his shoulder he reached for the Force connection he knew would be there. Out of habit he drew on his master's reassuring presence to re-center himself. Another presence was making itself felt as well, though not through the Force. This one, though equally familiar and bright, was not a Jedi. Padmé.

Frantically his eyes sought her out. There she was, at the top of the stairs, looking officious and very solemn in a midnight-blue dress and matching cape. Standing with the Queen and a small group of Royal guards, she had yet to notice the events unfolding only a few flights below. Then, almost as if he had willed it, she became aware of his stare. Looking down, she acknowledged her husband's stunned expression with a quizzical look of her own.

Anakin was jolted back to the present by a firm tug on his padawan braid. Obi-Wan had stepped in front of him and was staring at him curiously. The small vibroblade clasped in his fingers betrayed his intent. Almost involuntarily Anakin covered his Master's hand with his own, suddenly finding himself reluctant to dissolve their union. Their eyes met and a wealth of understanding passed between them. In a moment he would no longer be bound to this man who had taught him so much. Anakin wanted to say something, anything, but a slight negative shake of Obi-Wan's head told him no words were necessary.

The momentary flash of uncertainty gave way to a flood of exhilaration and he slowly, deliberately released his master's hand. Obi-Wan took the motion as permission to continue and grasped Anakin's padawan braid, raising the cutting tool purposely.

Anakin glanced over his master's head, once more meeting Padmé's bewildered gaze. In that instant he felt the draw of the vibroblade as it severed twelve-years of commitment to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He could see Padmé gasp, raising a hand to her mouth as she realized the significance of the small ceremony. Even from this distance Anakin could see tears of happiness spill onto her cheeks. She brushed them away impatiently, a broad smile lighting her face. It was all the reassurance he needed. He grinned broadly as he heard the ebullient cheers of the padawans and knights now gathered around him.

This time Anakin listened and understood as Master Windu bade him to greet his fellow knights as equals. Obi-Wan claimed the first congratulatory embrace, squeezing Anakin tight enough to break ribs before pulling back and tucking the detached braid into Anakin's belt pouch.

Hug after hug passed in a blur as Knight and Padawan alike congratulated him. Though lost in the moment, he kept glancing up at Padmé. His wife was doing her best to appear businesslike and help the Queen prepare to speak, but from the sidelong looks she kept sending him it was clear that her heart was with Anakin at the foot of the stairs.

Finally the excitement of the moment died down and the Jedi began to disperse. Master Windu stepped in for a final handshake before wandering off on official business. Anakin was almost surprised to find himself standing alone with Obi-Wan.

"I don't know what to say… besides…thank you." Anakin felt a little self-conscious now that all was said and done. "Those words seem far too simple, too inadequate… I owe you so much -"

"Nonsense." Obi-Wan seemed equally uncomfortable with the notion of gratitude.

The awkward moment dissipated at the sound of a distinctly feminine voice. "Master Kenobi, Anakin." It was Padmé, looking beautiful, but all too formal. "It would please the Queen if you would join her on the platform as she makes her statement. You were both invaluable in her rescue and she wishes to show her appreciation by giving you a place of honor."

"Oh, I don't think - " Obi-Wan started, only to have Anakin cut him off.

"Please tell Her Majesty that it would be our privilege to attend." Anakin accepted the invitation with the typical Jedi formality. Obi-Wan flashed him an annoyed look, but Anakin just smiled rakishly. "It wouldn't do to offend the Queen."

Padmé nodded. "I'll tell her." She turned to go back up the stairs, taking only a few steps before pausing and turning back to Anakin. "Congratulations, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker." She smiled softly, the gleam in her eyes saying far more than her words.

"Thank you, Senator." He replied, a thoughtful expression on his face. He watched silently as she ascended the steps.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice was oddly sympathetic, beckoning Anakin's attention from his wife's departing figure.

"Yes, mas… Yes, Obi-Wan?" Suddenly all the possibilities of his new station were spinning in his head.

His former master peered up at him, gray-blue eyes intent. "I know it isn't my place to tell you this, but I hope you'll listen." Anakin shifted his weight to his other foot, waiting for the admonishment he expected to receive. This time it wasn't forthcoming.

"You and Senator Amidala share a special bond." It was a statement, not a question. Anakin nodded almost imperceptibly, his wariness palpable. "You would do well to continue to keep that between the two of you for now. Too much is riding on this war, Anakin, and on your part in it. Don't make decisions in haste that will force the Council to act. The Republic needs _both_ of you to do your duty without distractions."

"But-" Anakin started.

"Please, Anakin." He couldn't remember a time when Obi-Wan had seemed more serious. "You aren't my padawan now and your business is your own. I am no longer compelled to act in your best interest and I no longer have to pretend not to notice nuances that are plain as the nose on my face." Anakin knew his own surprise was obvious. Had Obi-Wan always known?

Obi-Wan sighed impatiently. "I won't pretend anymore. Your love for Amidala doesn't change the fact that you are a Jedi Knight, bound by duty to serve a Republic that needs you desperately. There is a reason attachment is forbidden for the Jedi - to keep you from being torn in two by loyalties so strong you can't possibly choose between them. I don't envy you the conflicts you will face."

With that Obi-Wan turned and walked away, leaving Anakin to mull over the revelation that Obi-Wan was not – had never been – as ignorant as he'd assumed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author Note: **_Thanks, everyone, for reading and for your patience when the updates were slow in coming! Now for the conclusion of "Naboo Rain"... :)_

**Chapter 12**

Despite the direness of their circumstances, all the citizens of Theed who were able showed up to hear their Queen speak. As was the case with celebration parades, they filled the huge square to overflowing, coming from every corner of the city. This time, however, the gathering brought no cheers or laughter despite the brightness of the new morning sun.

Padmé watched the people of Naboo from the right of Queen Jamillia's podium. Stony anger set the features of many, while others wore blank, stunned expressions. All shed tears, especially during the reading of the endless, but still-incomplete list of victims. Although they bravely applauded the Jedi Knights Skywalker and Kenobi as they were introduced, their obvious gratitude did not overshadow the solemnity of the occasion.

Their sorrow was reflected in the visage of their monarch. The Queen wore a new mask today and Padmé silently applauded Jamillia's insight at making the change. In one day Naboo had been changed forever and it was right that a time-honored tradition would show it. Her Majesties face now carried a representation of the collective grief of her entire planet.

Her features were still painted white, but somehow they seemed translucent, even ethereal. The traditional Scar of Remembrance, long a part of Naboo's history, still marked the center of her lower lip, though now it was deep blue instead of red. Two thin vertical lines of the same blue bisected her dark eyes, running from forehead to mid cheek to terminate in elongated circles. Inside the corner of each eye rested a single shimmering teardrop of paint. It was a simple and poetic death mask, meant to honor those lost and mirror the grief of those who survived.

Jamillia's advisors, including Governor Sio Bibble, had long-since emerged from the safety of the cliff-face bunker and now stood to Padmé's right. Their expressions were stern in an attempt to project strength and assurance in the midst of chaos, but one had only to look in their eyes to see the true extent of their sadness. Padmé knew her own face bore a similar haunted look.

Two handmaidens stood to the left of the Queen, their usually bright garments eschewed in favor of dark gray hooded robes. As the only surviving attendant of Jamillia's court, Noalé took the place of honor by her side. Next to Noalé was Sabé, who had agreed to serve temporarily, until a new retinue could be selected. Rumor had it Rabé was on her way here from an outlying village to do the same.

Just past the handmaidens Anakin and Obi-Wan waited quietly for the address to end with solemn expressions. Padmé knew her husband had probably been embarrassed by all the fuss, though nothing on his face had betrayed it. On the contrary, he appeared every bit as gracious and mature as the more experienced Knight at his side.

For a moment Padmé's thoughts lingered on the absent Danel and Dormé Panaka. The concussion that had kept Danel unconscious had been surgically treated by medical droids, but he was still shaky and weak. With Sabé now coordinating royal security, it hadn't taken much to convince him to make the journey to Alderaan so he could rest and recuperate under the watchful eye of his very relieved wife. She couldn't quite suppress the uncharacteristic flash of jealousy that the thought inspired. Just to have a day or two with Anakin, making sure he was rested and healed…

Padmé turned her attention back to the Queen's speech. Having spent the pre-dawn hours of the morning listening to Jamillia practice, she could tell it was drawing to a close.

"It is easy for other worlds to mistake our love of peace for fear or weakness, but Naboo is far from weak or afraid." Jamillia's deep alto carried over the courtyard. "Our enemies wish to incite us to hate, perhaps even to retaliate. We will not give them the satisfaction. We are a peaceful people and we will remain so even in the face of overwhelming provocation. Our cities and homes can be rebuilt. Our families are strong and will carry on despite their tragic losses. We will _not_ allow this war to change the very beliefs that define our culture. Yesterday we lost much, but look around you! There is much that still endures." She paused dramatically, waiting as every eye followed the wave of her hand to scan the horizon. When their attention once again came to rest on her she concluded. "Naboo's strength will not be found in military power, but in the love that resides in the hearts of her people! With that might to motivate us, we _will_ rebuild!"

She bowed her regal head to show that she was finished and sporadic applause broke out around the square. It began softly, but soon built to a crescendo, with every citizen applauding furiously. Padmé watched, praying all the while that Jamillia's words would prove true. She had to admit that her own heart still held an element of doubt. She couldn't explain it, not even to herself, but Naboo felt changed somehow, and not for the better. Perhaps when her parents arrived tomorrow she would be able to gain a healthier perspective on things. Her father's unalterable ideals and her mother's quiet strength had re-centered her world on more than one occasion.

Padmé looked back at the crowd. The anger and despair visible earlier was slowly being replaced by determination and relief. Evidently they'd been expecting more bad news, possibly even temporary relocation. Queen Jamillia had made no such drastic suggestions. Instead she had wisely set her focus on rebuilding and on optimism for the future. Padmé's eyes misted as she recalled the inspirational words. So many of those gathered here had lost so much, but hope had not been a casualty. Maybe things _would_ be all right in the end.

The Queen acknowledged the tapering applause with a formal nod before turning to go back in to the palace. Sabé flashed Padmé a small wink before following her regal charge. Yes, now it was time for the hardest work to start.

She glanced back at Anakin. He had not been among those applauding. Rather, he was intently watching the faces of those in the crowd. It was almost as if he were studying them, seeking the measure of their resolve. Obi-Wan leaned in close to him and whispered something before taking off down the steps.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Anakin glanced up, misery evident in his face. Misery that had nothing to do with Naboo's tragedy. It was time for him to go.

He turned as if to walk away, then he glanced back over his shoulder and motioned with a barely perceptible tilt of his head for her to follow. She assumed he was headed to his starfighter and replied with the slightest nod to let him know she understood. In fact, she was already manufacturing excuses in her mind. Refusing was not an option. Her newly knighted Jedi husband was going back to war and she _would_ see him off!

* * *

Half an hour later she was slipping into the private docking bay. The dark cloak she wore was heavy and annoying, but it had been a necessary evil to get her here without constant delays. She pushed the offending hood off her head and looked around for Anakin.

She spotted him next to the silver and blue starfighter, working intently on one of the upper wing electrical panels. He appeared to be finishing up as she crossed the duracrete floor.

The little ship, already fired up and ready to go, sat humming loudly while Anakin loaded tools back into the cargo hatch. It was obvious he had taken a few precious minutes to clean up. His Jedi attire was fresh and clean, and his hair lay in dark, damp curls against his neck.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. Their conversation from several days ago had been replaying in her head since the moment she'd seen Obi-Wan sever his padawan braid – especially the part about battlefield ceremonies and how newly knighted Jedi often didn't live long. New awareness of his mortality, and her own, weighed heavily on her consciousness.

She'd give anything if he could stay here on Naboo and work at her side to rebuild.

Cold fear was gnawing at her insides. This trepidation she felt at his leaving was new to her and most likely a consequence of the last 24 hours. Never before had she realized how much she had to lose - how quickly Anakin and the life she planned to build with him could be taken away from her. Simply put, her husband had come to be her past, present and future. Without him everything else was pointless.

She stopped quietly behind him, certain he had sensed her presence the moment she walked in the door. He closed the cargo compartment with a click but didn't turn around. Instead, he stood with his back to her, head bowed, his black-gloved palm resting on the cool metal hull of the starfighter. Reluctance to leave was evident in every angle of his body.

"If I turn and look at you I don't know how I'll ever be able to leave." His voice was gruff.

"If you don't look at me, I won't let you go." She neatly turned the tables on him. He was not leaving without a proper good-bye and she didn't care how hard it was on either of them.

Slowly he turned, raising his eyes to hers as he spread his arms wide. She rushed into his embrace and they clung to each other tightly, finding a greater resolve together than either had been able to muster separately. Anakin was first to pull back, dropping a gentle kiss on her trembling lips. She tasted salt, but couldn't tell if the source was her tears, or his, or both.

"I love you." She whispered, forcing her eyes open.

"And I love you." His reply was fervent, adoration for her shining in his crystal-blue gaze. "So much." He wrapped his arms around her tighter. "I _will_ see this war ended Padmé. I don't care what it takes." Something in his voice reminded her of another time, another promise made at the side of a sand-covered grave. A chill skated down her spine.

"You'd better be concerned with staying safe!" She leaned back to peer up at him solemnly as she wiped away her tears with the edge of the rough cloak. "I mean it Anakin. No diving out of perfectly good hovercrafts. No zipping along on swoop bikes at the speed of light. And no more lightsaber duels! I swear, I've never been so scared in my life - "

He cut her off with a firm, passionate kiss before answering. "I'll be careful. I promise. I won't leave you alone in the universe." He flashed a devilish grin. "I've never in my life had so much to live for. You can bet I'll be back just as soon as I'm allowed! Maybe before."

Their eyes locked. He had to go now and they both knew it. Duty was calling them both.

Reaching out, he stroked her cheek before sliding his hand to the curve of her neck. He pulled on the satiny cord he found there until he drew the japor snippet over her collar.

"You won't take it off?" His eyes sought hers for reassurance and for a split second the newly Knighted Jedi became the little boy she'd met all those years ago on Tatooine.

She could feel her own eyes filling with tears again and blinked them away furiously. "I won't. It will stay next to my heart every second until you come back."

He nodded then, as if satisfied with her answer. "Take care, my love."

With a gesture meant to comfort he folded her hands in his own. A growing sense of unease gnawed at her and Padmé couldn't help noticing the contrast between the cool leather that covered his right and the warm skin of his left.

Anakin rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles in a soothing caress, then made it sweeter by raising her hands to his lips and pressing soft kisses along the tops of her fingers. Their eyes met and he reluctantly backed away by small degrees, holding her hands until the last possible second.

Too quickly he turned away, hopping onto the wing of the fighter before climbing easily into the cockpit. She watched as the transparisteel canopy lowered over his golden head. It locked with a smart click. Only when he was securely settled in did he look back at her.

Slowly she backed away from the landing pad, her eyes glued to Anakin's face until the blur of her tears made it impossible to make it out. She raised her hand in a silent, heartfelt wave, knowing Anakin would be pressing his own palm to the canopy window. Slowly the fighter began to rise from the floor and turn towards the open blast doors. Seconds later its sublight thrusters ignited and it soared out into the sun.

Dropping her hand, Padmé wiped the tears from her face once more before squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin up in a gesture that could only be described as queenly. Yes, there was much to do and no time like the present to get started.

* * *

After an uneventful flight Anakin dropped out of hyperspace and into an easy orbit over the Jedi Temple. He had barely managed to plot his landing path before the com light flashed on his display panel. It read as an encoded communication…on Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's private frequency.

Checking his chrono, he discovered that it was only mid-morning here on Coruscant. Strange. By all rights the Chancellor should've been in session with the Senate. Pressing a flashing key on his access panel he answered with genuine enthusiasm.

"Good morning, Your Excellency. What can I do for you?"

Static crackled a moment before the Chancellor's eager baritone came through. "Welcome back Anakin! I wanted to be among the first to congratulate you on your elevation to Knighthood!" The approval in Palpatine's voice was obvious. "I know you've waited a long time to see this day, and so have I."

The words brought to Anakin's mind a memory of the day they'd met so long ago on Naboo - the same day he'd become a Jedi padawan. Since then, Palpatine had been a constant and loyal presence, always offering wise counsel or an encouraging pat on the back. As always, his words never contributed to the emotional turmoil he had so often labored under in the years between then and now. Palpatine always knew the right thing to say and could help him put things in perspective like no one else. Their talks brought a welcome peace that was almost meditative. Such fleeting moments were rare and Anakin had come to cherish Palpatine's friendship.

"Thank you, Chancellor. Your support has meant so much to me over the years. I don't think I would have made it without you."

"Nonsense, my friend." The Chancellor replied, "The strength to become a Jedi has always been within you. I never doubted that." Static crackled again before the channel cleared. "I'm so terribly sorry about the devastation on Naboo. It was a relief to hear that both the Queen and the Senator are well - thanks to your intervention. There aren't words to express my gratitude for your efforts on behalf of my homeworld."

"I think of it as my home now too." Anakin alluded to his marriage, an event of which the Chancellor was well aware.

"Who could have known when we made arrangements for your trip that you would be needed so desperately?" Palpatine's question was gently spoken and rhetorical. Anakin nodded in silent agreement. Considering the severity of the attack and Count Dooku's presence, the timing of his visit had been nothing short of fortuitous.

"Well, enough of that." Palpatine redirected the conversation, his tone bland. "It just goes to show that even unfortunate circumstances have their uses." His voice brightened considerably. "Your promotion to Jedi Knight, for example." Anakin could sense his friend was smiling. "It could not have come at a better time, but what a shame that it took such a great tragedy to prove your worth to the Jedi Order."

The Chancellor cleared his throat before continuing, "Speaking of the war, I have a few ideas that may turn the tide in our favor. Perhaps we can sit down together and discuss them some time soon." Palpatine's tone turned gravely serious. "I believe there is a way to end this conflict, Anakin, a way to bring order and control to the galaxy. I'm curious to find out if you agree."

In light of the promise he'd made to Padmé only hours ago, Anakin felt certain he would concur no matter what the plan entailed. If anyone could propose an idea to end the chaos rampant throughout the galaxy, it would be the Supreme Chancellor. Even now it seemed nothing short of unbelievable that this man – a leader respected throughout the galaxy – wanted his input on such critical matters. His resolve strengthened.

"You know that you'll have my full support. In fact, I can come to your office later this afternoon, after I've given my full report to the council," he replied, "if that works for you."

"Perfect, my boy. I'll see you soon then." The com went silent as Anakin set the landing coordinates for the Jedi Temple.

* * *

A figure robed in black strode purposefully down a dark, empty corridor. The building, once a busy hospital, was now deserted save for two humans and a handful of state-of-the-art medical droids. Bright light spilled defiantly from the room at the end of the hallway only to be quickly absorbed by the gloomy darkness outside.

Within that room, a small surgery suite, a medical droid was working diligently. With detached efficiency it tested the cybernetic arm it had implanted only scant hours before.

As the robed man entered the room, the droid didn't acknowledge or even seem to notice his arrival. His patient, however, straightened from his reclining position.

"Master Sidious." Count Dooku's welcome was respectful, almost reverent. From his seat on the surgery table he was unable to bow formally to his visitor. Nevertheless, he gave a courtly nod and cast his eyes downward, waiting for acknowledgement.

"Lord Tyranus." The Sith master returned his apprentice's greeting with a hint of a smile that was barely visible from under the black hood obscuring most of his face. "I am pleased to see you doing so well after the unfortunate turn of events on Naboo."

Dooku raised his head, acknowledging his master's pleasure in his quick recovery.

"Leave us." He had no sooner uttered the command than the droid gathered up its tools and shuffled off to another corner of the room. Dooku tested his new arm by leaning on it fully as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Naboo went well, I think, despite the unanticipated complications." His unconscious gesture – gently massaging the juncture of flesh and cybernetic limb – only emphasized his words. "Of course, young Skywalker refused to take the bait. That came as no surprise." He picked up his lightsaber and cloak from a nearby chair, clipping the former to his belt and casually tossing the other over his shoulder gracefully.

"Indeed." Sidious concurred, "I would have been disappointed had Anakin Skywalker fallen so easily. Still, he cannot not remain a Jedi. As long as he does we are in danger. He alone holds the power to destroy all we have worked for."

Together Sith master and apprentice walked out into the shadowed corridor.

Tyranus glanced sidelong at his mentor. "You don't believe he will, though." It was more a statement than a question.

"No." Sidious responded matter-of-factly. "I have forseen that he will not. We simply need to persevere. He can't be turned by coercion and he has no political aspirations to use to our advantage. He is strong in the Force, and his insight must not be underestimated. As you must now realize, Skywalker requires seduction into darkness."

"Yes, I've seen your point." The Count's voice was uncharacteristically wry. "One of our objectives was achieved. He was given the rank of Jedi Knight, yes?"

"Yes." The Sith master's reply was a bare affirmative hiss. "He is now out from under Kenobi's sheltering influence; free to become all that young Jedi are in these times – arrogant, opinionated, self-important."

Dooku chuckled outright at this before a frown marred his regal features. "I apologize, my Lord, for failing to destroy Queen Jamillia and Senator Amidala."

"No matter. The death of the Naboo Queen would have been useful, but Jamillia is no real threat to us. She is not the ruler that her predecessor was. Meanwhile, Amidala will be kept quite busy rebuilding her poor, shattered homeworld. One thing can be said for the Senator: alive or dead, she has always had her uses." Darth Sidious looked up, stopping in front of a window that looked out upon Coruscant's industrial district. "She must die soon, though. Her continued existence has the potential to bring complications that truly could destroy us. I have foreseen this possible outcome and, if need be, I will see to the task of ending her life myself."

"That won't be necessary, my Lord." Tyranus's voice held great conviction as he joined his master gazing out the window. The steady stream of cargo vehicles below did not interest him. Instead, he studied their reflections. Next to his own considerable height Sidious's cloaked form seemed far less menacing – almost frail. He could easily have laughed aloud at the fallacy of that thought. A more powerful master of the Force's dark arts this galaxy had never known. Before all was said and done, Sidious would ensure that no one would ever again underestimate the power of the Sith.

"About Skywalker, I sensed rage in him in those last moments." Tyranus volunteered, his focus turning back to their duel on Naboo. "His connection…it was quite unlike any sense of the Force I have ever known." He turned away from the window and was now looking at Sidious directly. His brows drew together in a concerned frown.

"Yes." Sidious's voice was distracted, unconcerned, but his gaze was still cast out the window, toward the general direction of the Jedi Temple. "The so-called 'Chosen One' is powerful, but he has allowed himself a weakness in Amidala and she will be his undoing."

"Are you certain he should be turned?" Tyranus was hesitant to ask, but the question had been plaguing him since his arrival on Coruscant. "Perhaps destroying him would be the safer alternative."

"It is not for you to question my decisions, Lord Tyranus." The rebuke was laced with steel. It was clear that arguing this point was not an option.

"Yes, my Lord." Unquestioning obedience had returned to Dooku's voice.

"Console yourself, my apprentice, with the knowledge that he will find no peace in the days ahead. He has tasted the darkness and will find its intoxicating power irresistible."

Dooku thought back on their duel. There, at the end, he wasn't at all certain Skywalker would have captured him alive.

"Ah," Sidious raised his head and turned to his apprentice, "You want to know if Skywalker would have taken your life, given the chance." Apparently Sidious found this type of speculation amusing. Dooku did not. He had no sense of what Skywalker would have done in those last few moments, only that the boy's anger echoed throughout the Force.

"It is not the Jedi way." He turned a question back to Sidious. "What do you think?"

"I think, my friend, that is a question we cannot answer." The dark Master of the Sith put his hand on Tyranus's shoulder companionably. "Come now, you have important business to attend to." They resumed their walk. "As do I."

- Finis -


End file.
